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minhosimthings · 8 months

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Someone Older, Just a Little Bit Colder.

Summary: Yoon Y/N and Lee Minho. Perfect enemies. But when some guns and roses get mixed up with both of them, I wonder what the fates have weaved for their story.

Pairings: Fem!reader × Minho, classic Enemies to Lovers. Includes rest of Skz and other groups

Warnings: lots of violence, blood, murder, guns, swearing, mention of food, mention of dead bodies. There is a lot of violence so please do not interact if you are sensitive to these things.

A/N - I finished this finally. This took a lot of time and it is probably my longest work till date. I took inspiration from an edit I saw on Instagram. So here you go! Please enjoy this and feel free to give me feedback. I don't like some parts of the fic that much tho. Cause I was very lazy when I wrote them.

Song rec:

1: I need someone older

"No, no, no" Mournful voices were surrounding your frame. "No this can't be happening. Please Y/N!" Tears, not yours, dripped onto your skin as something red mixed with it to create a pretty little cocktail. "Fuck princess wake up! Fuck no....."

"Y/N! Come down quick! You've gotta get to school!" Another day of school. How mechanical was your life. In your final year of high school, you'd have thought that your life would have sugar, spice and everything nice. But instead, you got stuck with a robotic schedule, which consisted of waking up, going to school, coming back, food time, homework, checking to see if any colleges had sent you mails and then going back to sleep. But you couldn't really complain, because you were in Jeju Island. Literally everyone here had the same robotic schedule. Well maybe except for the richest people here. Your family was what was known as the middle classes. You lived comfortably, but not too plushily and your mom and dad both had jobs. Your elder sister Jinhee and you basically raised each other and now, with Jinhee, already graduated and married (since she was seven years older than you), you were left all alone in your turquoise room, with white borders and black finishes. It wasn't the fact that you weren't happy or anything. But, as a child of the Cosmos and as a ruler of the skies and tides, you wanted to feel that feeling that people had when they would roll around in the grass, or buy flowers from a sweet old lady, or wear ridiculous nail polish with someone, keeping the stories of the stars to yourself, whenever someone asks 'what did you do last night?'. But wasn't that why fairytales existed? To tell you that getting all those things was nothing but a mere dream? A dream which you hoped would come true? Which you hoped that the universe would understand your heart's desire and grant it to you?

"Be safe alright? Got your pepper spray?" "Yes ma don't worry. Im always safe aren't I?" Your mother kissed your forehead gently before letting to walk off to school, pepper spray in hand, knife hidden up the sleeve of your blue school sweater. The road from your house to your school was one of the safest ones. It was a suburban area, with families like yours lining up the street. You had no problem walking by yourself, and casually greeting the wakening families, with their toddlers and teenagers. You felt safe here and in the rare times there was some danger, you knew you could kick their asses (flashback to that one time you thought your dad was a stranger and accidentally kicked him hard in the shin. He still doesn't forgive you for that)

"Miss Yoon. Are you walking alone your highness?" That voice. That voice was perhaps the bane of your existence (not the object of all your desires. Sue me for using Bridgerton right now). A smooth black car pulled up next to you as you were just a metre away from the school. The windows were rolled down to reveal a young boy, your age with fluffy plum brown hair, cat like eyes, a sharp nose and a smirk on his stupid face. Lee Minho. Also known as the worst person you knew. And no this wasn't an enemies to lovers scenario. It usually is but this? Yeah absolutely not. Lee Minho had been your childhood neighbour since he was six. He lived with his grandparents since he was six, with his parents being in one of the richest families of South Korea and working in Seoul. He also went to your school, which was weird considering he was basically a billionaire and still chose to go to the 'middle class' school along with his his seven friends, who coincidentally were also from the seven richest families of South Korea.

"Oh no Minho. I wasn't walking alone. I have an invisible friend that you can't see from behind those stupidly pretty eyes of yours." You threw him a glare as his smirked just increased in size. "You think my eyes are pretty?" "Oh for fucks sake. What do you want?" "Language, princess." Minho chuckled and unlocked the passenger seat door. "Get in." You let out a chuckle and said "With you? Oh no thank you. I would rather go to Hell and dance with the devil." "Oh come on princess." Minho's face only widened even more to form the face of the devil himself. "You know people who die to even touch my car. You're lucky I'm offering you to ride in it." You rolled your eyes at him. So fucking cocky for no reason. You decided that you couldn't take it anymore and just started walking with a small 'I'll see you at school Minho goodbye now.'. Minho seemed to have taken the sign as he locked his doors, rolled the windows down and sped away to school.

Finally some peace. You breathed in the September air as you watched the Magpies fly around with their mates. You always loved Magpies, courtesy to your dad always encouraging you to birdwatch whenever you were free, with the pink binoculars you had. And today, in the serene September air, it felt good, watching two birds in love fluttering around, probably having a conversation about who knows what. There was that odd feeling in your chest again, that feeling which you pretended wasn't loneliness. People never understood the difference between alone and lonely. Yes you can be alone and you can enjoy it to your fullest. Some of your friends loved to be alone, eating chocolate, reading a nice book, sitting by the rain, all of those aesthetic things those Pinterest people do. You always craved to be like that too, but you never could. And you still had to learn to accept the fact that being basic wasn't a bad thing.

"Babe your foundation isn't blended properly come here. Hasn't Mama Huh taught you anything?" Your best friend Yunjin greeted you at the stairs of your school, with her bright unicorn bag and her perfect makeup as usual. "Sorry sweetheart. I really can't focus today." Yunjin gave you a sympathetic look as she blended the foundation on your neck with her hands carefully. "Is it Lee again? I swear to God one of these days I'm gonna go and tell him that you like him and then he'll confess to you and then this can be an enemies to lovers novel where I'm the sassy, amazing best friend who saves the day." You laughed at Yunjin's rambling. "And I thought Chaer was more delusional than you." "Do I hear my name?" A pretty girl with long black hair and perhaps the greatest jawline in the world came up behind you. Lee Chaeryoung, cousin of Minho and your second best friend, also your prettiest friend (sue me she's my wif- I mean my bias) "Hey Chaer. By the way have you guys completed Mr Hong's assignment?" Yunjin groaned at your words as she pulled out a red copy from her bag and opened it to reveal her messy handwriting. "I stayed up to finish this shit. Why do we need to analyse what a curtain means in Shakespearean language? Like I don't know. It could mean the heroine wants to be at an orgy for all I know." Chaer hit Yunjin's arm as you laughed at went inside the school to go to your English class along with Yunjin. Chaeryoung stalked off in the other direction, to her biology class, as you entered the class, where Mr.Hong wasn't present yet. You always dreaded English period, not because you weren't good in the subject, but because of the seating arrangement. Yunjin would always sit at the back of the class while you were stuck in the front with Minho. You internally groaned as you walked up to your seat, where Minho and Chan were talking to each other. Chan was a good friend of yours since your mom was the head of the Jeju Island branch of his dad's buisness. Curly haired, eyes filled with stars and the most gentle behaviour ever, he came straight out of a goddamn book. You always wondered how he became friends with Minho, considering both of them were as different as chalk and cheese. But then again, they has been brought up together, by their grandparents while their parents would stay in Seoul to run buisness.

"Hey Chan. Did you get those physics notes done yesterday?" Chan greeted at you with than omnipresent smile on his face as he nodded fervently like a puppy. "Yeah I got them done! It was really hard though. I really hope Mrs.Choi is absent today. So she can't call me out on my 'mistakes'." You smiled fondly at Chan as he took his seat on your other side, while Minho toyed with a blue hairband. Your hairband. "Minho where did you get that?" He turned to look at you and gave you that smug smirk again. "Why princess? Is it yours?" You scowled as you reached forward and grabbed the hairband out of his hands and stuffed it into your bag. "Yes it is mine! I think you'd know that considering I have been looking for this ever since the playground incident from when we were seven! Oh but I think you wouldn't remember that would you? Considering you're an ajhussi." It was Minho's time to scowl now and he scrunched up his nose like an angry bunny and stuck his tongue out at you, all while mumbling "I'm only two months older you know.", As Mr.Hong entered the classrooms in his pinstriped shirt and began asking for the assignments.

The rest of the day went as normal. You went to all of your classes, had a gossip-filled lunch with Chaeryoung, Yunjin, Miyeon, Sunoo and Jake, accidentally spilt water over Sunghoon from Chemistry, and got top grades in biology as usual.

Gosh September was good. September was lovely. People don't really get why September was so comforting to you. And to be frank, you didn't get it either. But there was this aura that September had that you couldn't shake. It wasn't just all pumpkin spice lattes or orange scarfs. It was..... Something else. Something you couldn't describe. You know that feeling when you bite into an ice cream cone? It crumbles all over you, but you love that feeling, that crunch combined with the sweet ice cream inside. That's what September was.

The bell rang loudly as school got over and you went over to the the basketball court. Being captain of the girls team, you always needed to stay back after school in order to train your team. "Unnie come quick would ya!" Chaewon, the team's greatest shooter called out to you. "Im not that late today Chaewon. That's a record for me!" Chaewon rolled her eyes as she adjusted her shorts. "Y/N are we gonna discuss some tactics for next week's game then? Cause I drew a lot of shit last night and I don't want it to go to waste." Wonyoung, the team's co-captain was nudging some papers into your hands. You gave her a quick smile as you looked over all the loopy drawings she did. "Oh and girls! Please remember to get your registration documents tomorrow! I really don't want to submit them late to Coach Kim." All your teammates nodded at your words and went on to the court, where to your dismay, Minho and his team were also practicing. You were annoyed. You had booked the court for today and has specifically checked with both of your coaches and yet again, your mortal enemy was playing with his team on what was meant to be your court. "Yah Minho! Get off the fucking court. We have it booked for today!" You gave him the biggest glare that you could muster, while he simply strode up to you, ball in hand, and that stupid smile on his face. "Aww princess. You booked the court for today? Well sad because I booked it earlier. I have a signed consent form from Coach Kim too. So either you can get off the court or we can have a practice game together." You felt like blowing up the earth below his feet right now but you couldn't do anything when he showed you the piece of paper on which Coach Kim had signed specifying that the boy's team could play today. "Fine then. But a practice game? Together? Boys versus girls?" Minho simply nodded at your words as you looked back at your girl standing behind you who were currently looking like they wanted to go to war. Seeing their determination, you extended a hand forward to Minho and in a assertive tone, said, "You're on then Lee. I wanna watch your pretty little face when you lose really badly. So what's the prize then?" You regretted asking that question when you saw Minho's face turning into that evil little smirk again. His team was assembled behind him and now you were a bit scared, considering that your tallest player was the size of their shortest one. "How about........ loser has to take the winner to that nice ice cream place that just opened down the street? And it'll only be us two. You know, captain to captain." Hearing that both your team and Minho's team broke out in high pitched 'ooohs' (yes even the Bois) as if you were doing something scandalous. You had no choice but to accept so you extended you hand again as Minho gripped it with his veiny hands and shook it firmly.

Chan and Chaeryoung were sitting by the stands since neither of them played and you smiled gently at them talking and giggling so fondly. The game started with one of the assistant coaches, Jungwon, refereeing. You were more determined now than you were at last month's regional games. You had to beat Minho and he had to take you to that stupid ice cream place. "Scared princess?" Minho asked as you assembled on the half line. You didn't say anything but threw him a smirk, hoping that it would catch him off guard. "Alright, ready set. Rumble!" Jungwon blew the whistle and threw the ball up in the air as you reached forward and managed to slap it onto your side of the court, where Wonyoung caught it and swiftly passed it on to Chaewon, who was standing by the hoops. You heard Minho scolding Jeongin, who was defending Chaewon, for not blocking her properly as you high fived Wonyoung for the quick pass.The rest of the game pretty much went the same way as you kept using witty tactics while Minho kept using speed and strength, which you knew was his greatest weakness. From time to time, his shirt would fly up ever so slightly and you would get distracted for a split second by his abs (which you scolded yourself for).

"Guys can you stop now please? It's 7:30. I'm going home now and you guys should too before they shut the school gate." Jungwon finally ended the game as you looked over at the scoreboard. You had won! You hugged Chaewon tightly before striding up to a very sweaty Minho who, not even in the slightest, looked defeated. "So, Mr Lee. You owe me ice cream now." He gave you a small smile, which made your heart leap, and said "Of course your Highness. Do you wanna get changed and then we can go? Or would you like to come being all sweaty?" You scowled at him and stuck your tongue out as you made your way to the changing rooms as he shouted behind you, "Meet me at the gate!" You quickly took a shower and changed into the tshirt and yoga pants you usually brought with you to change into after a sweaty game.

"Yah are you going to take me in your dumb car?" You questioned Minho as he pulled up by the gate. Chan had taken Chaeryoung home today so you didn't have anyone to walk you home, which was a plus point (for Minho). "Yes princess. Since the ice cream place is not at a walkable distance, atleast for my feet, we are going in my dumb car. And you don't wana walk home this late Y/N. It's dangerous you know? So get the fuck in and let's go. I'm hungry." You begrudgingly got in the car, silently admiring the sleep leather seats as Minho started the engine and turned the car. "Oh and Chan hyung already informed your mom and dad. They're not gonna come home tonight cause they're busy or something so I'll drive you back if you want." You snapped your head from the flying butterfly outside the window to Minho's concentrated face as you shyly mumbled a 'thank you'.

The drive to the ice cream was long and silent. You simply stated out the window while Minho stared forward, trying not to look at the way the rays of the setting sun fell on your skin or how your hair fell in that particular way that just felt good. Do the boys usually confess first? He didn't know. No he hated you. This is absolutely not fucking happening right now. You were Yoon Y/N, captain if the girls basketball team, annoying neighbour, beautiful mortal enemy. No not beautiful. Get out of it Minho!

"Uh is this the place? Looks cute." Minho's car pulled up near a tiny cafe like building called 'Jureimi's parlor', lit up in bright pink signs. "Oh yeah. I'll just park and we can go." You got out of the car as Minho parked nearby and got out too. "Is that boba flavoured ice cream?" You pointed at a brown coloured ice cream in ghe booth. The lady at the counter smiled at you as she nodded and gave you little sample cup. You offered a bit to Minho, who shook his head and went to find a table. "Get what you want. I'll pay." You rolled your eyes at him. He had to pay anyway for losing the game so badly.

You tasted the ice cream, which tasted like heaven and decided that you wanted this. "Can I get this in a cone please? Two scoops." The lady nodded and told her co worker your order, who went to the back to make it. You noticed some pudding cups on the shelf behind the lady. "Are those puddings?" "Oh yes. They're a new addition really. It's a favourite among all the grandmas here." You pointed at the vanilla one and asked the lady to give you that one, while you handed her the money and she handed you your ice cream and the pudding cup. You strode over to Minho, who was sitting with his legs wide open at the little round table in the corner of the store. "Is that for me?" He pointed at the pudding. "No dumbass it's for the Magpies." He gave you a sarcastic smile and grabbed the pudding cup from your hands. "I only got it for you cause this boba ice cream is expensive. So stop smirking at me." He looked up at you with those cat like eyes and slightly pouted, but remained quiet as both of you savoured on the sweet, sticky food.

"Dude how slow do you eat?" You watched Minho as he has halfway through his pudding, while you had already finished your ice cream. "Just slow enough to annoy you baby." You frowned at his words. "Do not call me that ever again. It's makes me wanna vomit." You made a gagging motion as Minho just simply chuckled. "Fine then. While I finish this amazing pudding, how about we play truth or dare hm? Because our impatient princess can't wait for five seconds without doing anything." You thought for a while before finally saying yes. "Alrightly then." Minho smiled at you. "Y/N. Truth or dare?" You picked truth, which seemed like the only viable option, considering the fact that you were in a shop, and Minho said, "How's your brother?"

Your heart dropped as you heard that sentence. How did he know about that? The blue shade of the shop spun around you as you tried to focus on anything else other than what just came out of Minho's mouth. Silence. Yes silence would work. Just give him a glare and it'll be over. "Oh come on princess. We all know what happened to your brother. I just wanna hear it from you personally." Your blood turned cold as your mind kept feeding you memories of that night. That faithful night. That peace filled night. That night when the Magpies stopped singing and September ran cold once more.

"Fuck you Lee Minho." Saying that, you picked up your bag and got up, slamming the chair to the ground, behind you. The lady at the counter looked up to see you walking about the door, pushing it agressively. "No Y/N wait!" Minho knew he had fucked up now. He had never meant to hurt you like this. He had learnt from Yunjin that you were already over your brother's incident. This was just supposed to be normal mortal enemy banter. How do you still remember? He quickly pulled out some cash and slammed it on the counter to the very shocked lady as he ran out after you. You wouldn't have gotten far. After all, you had to pass the school to get to your house. Minho quickly got in his car and started the engine with a blast. You had also left your headband in the carseat. So, that was another excuse for him to chase after you. He wasn't going to lose you again. Not now. Not when he was so close.

The street was dark and cold, lit up faintly by the wavering streetlights. This wasn't September anymore. You could feel December taking all the love out of September. And as you walked upon the concrete, you could feel the Magpies talking about you. You could feel the crescent moon feeling nothing but pity for you. You could feel all the plants with their bugs, looking at you and saying, "Yoon Y/N. You fucked up again just like you always do." You shouldn't have let your anger take control. But then again, when we deal with anger so long, she never tells us that her actual name is grief. Your brother was supposed to be a closed chapter of your life, but like a faded page of an Agatha Christie novel, he lingered on in your brain. All your family had far moved on, but you loved your twin brother, older than you by 8 minutes, too much to let him go from the dusty cabinets of your brain. You tried to forget his screams on that day and that cold, hard cackling but you couldn't. You were right there. Right in front of all the destruction, when your heart broke into a million pieces. Yet how could you forget such a memory?

"Y/N!" Minho was rolling up with this car next to you as you reached your house. The magenta coloured door was locked, your parents were still out on work. "Minho just fucking leave me alone. And I mean it this time. Don't even fucking talk to me." "Yn would you listen to me? Don't go inside the house!" What was this maniac saying? You stared at his figure getting out of the car and swiftly moving across over the lawn to your figure standing at the front door. "please just don't go inside the house." You noticed some figures behind him and you realised that Chan and his friends Jisung and Changbin were also there. "Minho what the fuck are you doing?" Minho looked at with what you thought looked like an expression of pity. "Just please don't go inside the house."

No you weren't going to listen to him. Absolutely fucking not. The last time you listened to him, you ended up in a mud covered ditch. Not today. "Fuck you and fuck your fucking existence Minho! I'm not listening to one word that comes out of that stupid mouth of yours." Before Minho could stop you and before Chan called out your name, you opened the door with gusto, only to be met, not with the familiar scent of Eau de Perfume but with the stench of iron. Your world came crashing down again. Your parents. Lying dead. On the floor. Of your house. Covered in blood. You were frozen. You couldn't move. A sense of familiarity came over you. You knew this feeling. This feeling of feeling like a thousand icicles had pierced your veins. All that came to your mind was him. No this can't be September. September was his birthday! It can't be this bad. No please don't let September be bad. "Y/N. Princess are you alright?" "Min- Minho. They're- they're not. No." The tears weren't coming. This wasn't sadness this was shock. "Chan hyung can you get her out of here? Jisung call the police. Now. Y/N. Y/N what are you doing!" You had strode up to your parents' bodies. Your mom was covered in more blood than your dad. Your dad looked like he was peacefully sleeping. Your mum's head seemed bashed in. Oh god the smell of blood. That night. All that remained was that night. You were too immersed in looking at your parents, that you didn't notice the creeping black figure in front of you. "So you're their daughter are you?" That husky voice was the last thing you heard before a gun shot, Minho's voice and the thud of your body. There was something warm on your stomach. And gooey. And red. This felt nice, you thought. Dying felt nice. If only he felt like this before....

Chan and Changbin slammed the man who had stabbed you onto the wall, destroying some photo frames in the process. Jisung turned on all the lights and went over to the two other men to get a look at the stranger. Minho, on the other hand, had rushed to your side, picking you up in his arms, towel pressuring the wound on your stomach.

2: Just a little bit colder

"Well well well, Mrs Yoon. How are the children?" Your mother cowered in fear as your elder sister and your dad were tied up next to the fridge in the kitchen. Your twin brother and you were in the clutches of some buff looking men. Eleven years. That's all you were. Eleven fucking years. "Mr. Wang I promise I won't leak the papers. I swear on my children. Please do not harm us." Mr. Wang or whoever he was striding up and down the carpeted room, white papers in his scarred hand. "It's ok Y/Nnie. I'm right here. It's just another November. September will come soon won't it?" Your brother, Doowon tightly held your hand and calmed you down, as your tears threatened to escape from their prison. "Mr. Wang. Please I beg you. Please do not harm me. You have the papers. What more do you want?" Mr Wang smiled at your mother. A cold smile. Shivering and undaunted. "Oh my dear Danbi. I have the papers of course, but you know how I do my work. I do not like bitches who butt their heads into everything. So I want your children to see how their mother is a little bitch." Mr Wang pulled your mother's hair as she screamed and cried out. "Hey don't do that to my mom!" Your borther screamed out as you but the hand if the man who was holding you. Both of you escaped from the clutches of the two men as Mr Wang looked on, slightly amused. "Or what little boy? You gonna beat me up?" Your brother stood his ground, not even daring to break eye contact. "Doowon get back please!" Your mum pleaded with Doowon, but he wouldn't listen. He stepped forward to Mr Wang and stepped painfully on his smooth black shoes. Mr Wang let out a cold laugh as he grabbed your brother by the neck of his shirt. "Grab the little girl too. Let her see how her twin meets with death." A man grabbed you from behind as your family pleaded and you thrashed around, trying to escape. "Let me go!" You screamed as the man took you upstairs while Mr Wang followed with your brother. You reached your bedroom door, which you shared with Doowon and Mr Wang slammed it opened pushing you and your brother inside. "Open that window, Brian." He spat at the man who grabbed you, while you and Doowon stood still. "Now boy. Come here. Come. Here. Now. Unless you want your sister harmed." Doowon looked at you and squeezed your hand before going ever to Mr Wang. And that was the last touch of your brother you had, before Mr. Wang pushed him out of the window on to the green grass below. Your screams had filled the neighborhood, scared the Magpies and threatened September to never come again. September's child,you told yourself. That's all he was. September's child, at the mercy of October.

"She'll be alright Minho. Just give her a few hours. She'll wake up." You were lying on an oak bed with grand purple bedsheets. You had a white sheet wrapped around your waist and your stomach, which stopped blood from coming out of your stab wound. Minho had taken you to his mansion outside of town, where all the sons of the mafias of Korea would hang out. Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Minho's brother Lee Felix Yongbok, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin and Lee Minho. Stray kids, they called themselves. Basically abandoned by their workaholic parents and brought up by relatives. "Hyung she'll be fine don't worry. Seungmin's aunt is the best surgeon in the country. She stitched Y/N up all fine." Changbin put an arm on Minho's shivering shoulder. Chan and Jisung were also there in the room, trying to comfort Minho and convince him that you would be fine. "What if she's not ok hyung? What do I tell her when she wakes up? Ho-how do I explain to her how I knew that her parents' bodies would be lying in her floor before she even got home? How do I fucking explain that?" Minho looked up at Chan with teary eyes. Chan was worried. Minho hadn't eaten or drunk water for the whole day, ever since you came out of that four hour long surgery. Never before had he seen Minho's cold face so filled with emotion. "Minho listen to me. You can explain everything to her once she wakes up. I called her sister and she'll be coming over in three days from Busan. Now please. You've got to eat something or drink water atleast. I promise you, Y/N will understand if you speak to her properly. Now come on, let's get some breakfast. It's 8 am in the morning. The boys would have woken up by now." Minho listened silently to Chan's words and simply nodded. Words weren't coming out anymore as he slowly got up from his chair and let go of your hand. Taking one last look at you, the boys left the room, all the while commanding two bodyguards to stand outside the door, making sure no one else can even come near you.

"Y/Nnie! Look what I can do!" "That wasn't a proper cartwheel Doowon, it doesn't count!" "Atleast I can do a cartwheel." "Yah don't stick your tongue out at me! Jinhee unnie! Doowon's making fun of me!"

'Do you remember? Twenty first night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders.' "Happy birthday Doowon! I got a CD of your favourite song!" "Thanks Y/Nnie. Let's listen to this song on my birthday every year!"

Purple sheets? This was not your bed. Your bed had dinosaur sheets and made a rickety noise every time you moved. You noticed the white tape wrapped carefully around your waist and dared not touch it. You tried to remember what day it was and where you were as you slowly moved and leaned comfortably against the bed frame, groaning slightly as your stomach was hurting. Gosh what day was it? Was it still September? Or did October come to take you away again?

Lost in your thoughts, you looked around the room, trying to figure out whether you were still in Jeju Island or not. You noticed a drawer close to the bed. Curious, you opened the drawer, to find your phone, a bracelet and a picture of a you and Minho in your jerseys. That bracelet. It was the one which your brother had made for you. Which you hadn't seen ever since that day. And the picture was the one which was taken when you and Minho were elected captains of your basketball teams. You grabbed your phone hurriedly as you realised that this had to be Minho's house. You had to get out. Now. Your memory was coming back to you and you remembered the events that had unfolded the night before. Blood. The smell of iron. The blade of a knife. The tears of a plum brown haired boy.

You threw the sheets off of yourself and made to get up. Stupid decision, you told yourself as the moment your feet hit the floor, you fell down witha loud thud. "OUCH!" you cried out loudly, hoping that this was a soundproof house. Probably not, because five seconds later, you heard footsteps coming down to your door. The oak door swung open with a loud crash to reveal a panic stricken Minho, who had dark circles under his eyes, a worried looking Chan, who was clutching a half finished piece of toast and a very confused Seungmin, who was holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "I knew I shouldn't have left your clumsy ass alone." Minho grumbled as he made his way to you and gently lifted you up, taking care not to touch your injury. You should have probably thrashed around, but for the sake of not accidentally injuring yourself even more, you resisted, as Minho put you back on the head and flicked your forehead painfully. "Yah!" You exclaimed rubbing your forehead. "Ok first of all, where the fuck am I? Second of all, what the fuck am I doing here? Third of all, I know my parents are dead now, so what I am going to do?" You directed the last question at Chan, who scratched his hair and glanced at Seungmin, who was looking at you as if you were his hero. "You know noona, you can come stay with me if you don't wanna stay in Minho's hyung's house." Minho glared at Seungmin as Chan took him by the arm and forced him out of the room, before saying "Minho explain everything. And no I will not help you stop pouting." He slammed the door, leaving Minho and you all alone. All alone in this wood carved room. All alone to face September together. "Alright" Minho took in a deep breath. "Im going to explain everything to you princess. But you will not fucking interrupt me, got it?" You opened your mouth to fire something back at him, but you decided against it in the last moment and quietly nodded. "Alright here goes. First of all I am really sorry for bringing up your brother. I know it was an asshole move and I thought you'd have forgotten about it. Clearly you didn't so I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Second of all, yes your parents are dead. Im sorry Y/N but they are. We informed your sister, she'll come in a few days from Busan. And the reason I knew that your parents were dead and tried to stop you was because my cousin killed your parents." Pause button. Wait what?

"Minho what are you talking about? If this is some kind of joke I will seriously kill myself right here and right now." Minho looked at you with an expression of pure sympathy. "It's not a joke Y/N. You know your mom is the head of the Jeju Island branch of Chan's parents' buisness right? Well all our businesses are connected. And one day when you were a child, your mother had found some papers which proved that my family was in illegal work. My family was ready to forgive her but my cousin, Jackson, wasn't. All those papers were related to his dealings and he wasn't happy that a mere woman had found out about it. So one day, without my parent's knowledge, he found out about your family and well. I think you know the rest don't you?" Too many things. Too many things for your brain to process as it went back to that night. Mr Wang. Jackson Wang. Pretty name, you thought, as you tried to bring his face back to your memory. Scarred. That's all you remembered. Scarred face, scarred mouth, scarred hands grabbing your brother by the cuffs on his shirt. "Chan had found out first. You know him having contacts and all. And when he told me about it, there was this thing inside of me that told me that your parents were probably already dead. I know my cousin pretty well. And he isn't one for patience." "But what did my mom do now?" Minho sighed at your question. "She, she found out some more information about Jackson and she decided to step up. But we all know what happens to heroes don't we?" Your breathing had gotten more steady now and your hands had stopped shaking. Sadness wasn't arriving for you. Not yet. Was it September? Or was it because you never actually knew your mother and father? Because thinking about it, you actually never did.

"Y/N I think it's time to tell you what my parents actually do. What all the boy's parents actually do. We run an underground syndicate over the whole of South Korea. We own every piece of land in Korea. We have information about every person existing in this country. And I want to tell you that your mom was actually one of the most important people for our 'buisness'. She wasn't just some head of the Jeju Island branch. She was a personal spy for my father and mother, put here along with your dad, to spy against, uh, some people." Your head hurt even more with all the information that Minho was unloading on you. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples gently. Minho looked slightly worried at this and nervously asked, "You ok princess? Want some breakfast?" Oh gosh his lips. "Or a doctor? You know what I'll get a doctor. Chan hyung will say no-" Those lips looked so kissable" "- but what if you don't feel well later on a faint and then you become even more sick-" Don't kiss him Y/N don't you dare. "-and then I'll have to marry you and take care of you foreve-"

Yep you couldn't keep it to yourself anymore. "I wanna kiss you." You blurted out, instantly cringing and regretting your words and Minho turned his head towards you, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in surprise. "This is adream right? Oh shit I had too much coffee." You were surprised at his words. Wait did he dream of this in a regular basis or what? Or were in you in a coma and this was all in your head? You slightly moved in the bed and as your stomach slightly hurt, you thought, yes definetly not a coma. "Or you could just get me some breakfast? Im hungry and in pain right now." "O-oh yeah I'll just tell t-the guys to get you some. K cool bye Y/N! See you later definetly don't wanna kiss you haha bye!" You were in a state of euphoria as Minho left the room, a blushing mess. Did you just make the Lee Minho blush and stutter? Oh you could jump in joy right now. Well if you could jump. Was this wrong, you thought. Not feeling sad even though your parents had just died? Or were you too familiar with sadness, that meeting her wasn't a big deal anymore?

The door opened again after fifteen minutes to reveal a blonde- haired boy with the most prettiest eyes you've ever seen, carrying a breakfast tray, followed by a taller long haired boy, who looked like he came straight out of those anime comics you read. "Hey noona! Here's some breakfast! Are you feeling better now?" The blonde haired boy, who had a very deep voice, said in a cheery tone. You considered asking him if he was a pixie or an angel because God did he emit that vibe. That positive vibe that just made you wanna pick some flowers and braid them in someone's hair. "Oh hello there. Um thank you for the food. Im sorry if it was of any inconvenience to you." This time, the long haired boy responded instead, saying "Oh no Noona it's fine. Minho hyung would kill us, well specifically me, if, according to his words 'you felt any discomfort', so please eat up. Im Hyunjin by the way and this is Felix." "Im Y/N. Yoon Y/N. But I'm guessing you already knew that?"

"Well of course we know about you. Minho hyung doesn't stop talking to me about you." Jisung had just appeared at the door, dressed in a leather jacket with leather pants, making him look like a biker. "He literally talked to me about your favourite ice cream flavour for five house noona I'm not joking. So please would you tell him you like or something so that I can get out of this hellhole of listening to him?" You were slightly taken aback by Jisung's words and as he plopped and deflated onto the purple couch, you looked at him with a curious expression, "Oh I'm Jisung by the way. Minho's amazingly talented best friend." You heard Hyunjin mutter something along the lines of 'he forgot to add annoying'. "Um I have a lot questions that Minho didn't properly answer. May I ask them,if you don't mind?" You directed this question at Felix, who looked ecstatic at the thought of answering questions, as Hyunjin pulled up two chairs. "Yeah of course Noona! My brother is really vague so please forgive him for that." You smiled at Felix's words about Minho. "Ok first of all where are we right now?" "We're in the outskirts of Jeju Island. This is Minho's hyung's mansion. Well technically our mansion, but my parents are the ones who own it. It's really old and no one cares about it. So we carry out our, er, operations here." Seeing Felix say all that was like seeing a chick with a knife. "So do all of you have like different jobs here? Like in the books and movies?" Hyunjin chuckled at that. "Minho hyung told us you liked suspense literature. Well to answer your question, yes we do have different jobs here. Chan hyung is kind of like our leader. He basically gives all the contacts and manages our profile and connections. You know all the administration shit. Changbin hyung and this idiot over here-" He gestured towards Jisung who gasped dramatically, "-they are our muscle and also so the money work. Lix over here does all the hacking work since his parents trained him and also since he's obsessed with gaming." Felix turned red at that, "Seungmin and Jeongin are our snipers. They are really young but I mean none of us really had an actual childhood. I run the interrogation work. And Minho hyung basically does everything. He doesn't really have a designated position." The way Hyunjin said all of that in the most casual tone weirded you out. He talked as if he was talking about morning coffee, as if it completely normal and nothing suspicious. You smiled awkwardly at Hyunjin who simply stared out the window at the sunlight. "Are all of you so gorgeous over here?" You blurted out, to which Jisung choked on his own saliva, Felix blushed pink and Hyunjin blinked multiple times. "I mean unless you count Jisung out, then yeah all of us are really pretty." You laughed at Hyunjin's statement to which Jisung looked like a furious squirrel.

"Yah Yongbok, Hyunjin are you coming down?" You heard Minho shout from below. "Oh gotta go. Anyways it was nice talking to you noona! I think Minho hyung called the doctor to come in the evening, so you should probably rest up until then. Oh and-" Felix paused for a moment and pulled out a sketchpad from nowhere. "Don't tell Minho I have you this. He told me you like to draw so I sneaked this in here." With that, all of them left you in the room, with a sketchpad, your phone and September's tunes.

You wiled away the hours by drawing the room around you. You tried to draw Hyunjin, Felix, Jisung and Chan too. The house was quiet apart from the voices of whom you assumed was Jeongin and Seungmin talking very loudly. But something was distracting you. That bracelet. The bracelet lying on the bedside drawer. You knew that bracelet very well. It was the bracelet which Doowon had made for you when you were eight or so. And you hadn't ever seen it ever since that night. So what was it doing here? Minho had told you that his cousin and his family don't talk at all, so how was this bracelet here? Was Minho lying? No he wouldn't do that. Yes mortal enemy things but you didn't think this man would be crazy enough to kill. You picked up the bracelet and twirled it in your hands. It was pretty, with gold lining the thing.

You noticed something on one of the biggest pink beads of the bracelet. The bead was... Open? It had a line tracing it as if it was a Pokemon ball, ready to split at any moment to reveal your Pokemon. Curious, you dig your nails into it to open it up. After a few minutes of difficulty (and you almost giving up), you managed to open the ball up. Inside was a tiny piece of folded paper. It was so tiny indeed, that you wondered how someone had managed to fold it. You dug the paper out and unfolded its many layers of folds. This definetly wasn't there when your brother had so lovingly made it for you. The paper was faded, but still looked relatively new. There were some words on it typed out in red, black and blue. The words:.

Yoon Doowon

Birth: September 21, 2005 (Age: Unknown)

Job: Hitman, Ally, Possible heir

Status: Alive

3: Take the weight off his shoulders

'Do you remember 22st night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders all while dancing the night away."

"God boss can you turn that off? It's been playing for an hour now." A stout man, dressed in tight black clothes, which fitted his muscles was sitting spread eagle on a nice blue cushion chair. Sitting in front of him on a much more bigger chair, was a man dressed elaborately in a white mink stole, a pristine white suit, with rings of all colours adorning his fingers, and a big black brooch on a golden chain stuck to his suit. "I won't turn it off until the chorus Brian. You know I love this song don't you? And you shall listen to it until your ears bleed out." Brian groaned and leaned back in his chair. "When is Mr Wang coming?" The man asked Brian. "It's possible he'll be arriving in a few minutes sir. But don't worry. I have intel that he got the job done well and good." "And the little rat? What about her?" Brian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well she might have gotten away. Lee's gang was there." The man threw his long hair back and threw off the stole, a frown and a red scar decorating his handsome face.

They were in a large room, an office, but it looked more like a King's throne room, where there were chairs for the ministers and wine glasses all decked with pink fluid. There was no door, but a few handing blue beads, which tinkled every now and then. "How could she have gotten away? Who did you send to kill them?" "I sent our best assassin sir." The man scoffed. "Well, clearly he wasn't the best. Does he have family?" Brian nodded in response to the question. "Good. Kill them." "Of course sir."

The blue beads tinkled as a heavily scarred man came into the room along with two bodyguards. "Mr Wang." The white draped man bowed deeply to Jackson who bowed back, only a bit. "Well well well Doowon. You did good. Your parents are dead. This deserves a toast. Shall we?" Doowon smirked at the man and got a green bottle from underneath the table. "Only the finest whiskey for you Mr Wang." Jackson chuckled coldly, taking a glass from the table and extending it forward to Doowon. "But-" Doowon said as he slowly uncorked the bottle. "I do not wish for your bodyguards to be here. You know how the Lee Family works? Even the most trusted allies can turn into back stabbers when their money is involved. " If Jackson Wang was startled, he didn't show it on his face. Instead he motioned for his guards to leave the room, who followed suit, although with a little uncertainty. Brian also left the room, leaving the two scarred men alone.

"Well then a toast. To me and you. Buisness partners." Doowon raised his glass in unison with Jackson, who drank up the whiskey quickly. "Mr Wang I have something to tell you." Jackson looked up at the younger man and waved his hand as if to say 'go on'. "First of all I just want to thank you for taking me in that night, when everyone thought I was dead. You were so ever so good with your observations to notice that I was only playing dead. And then you trained me and everything so thank you for that. And for telling me the truth about everything." Jackson simply nodded. He felt a sharp jab in his stomach and his head started to stir. Doowon was going out of focus now and in what seemed like a split second, Jackson Wang rolled off of the chair, onto the floor. Dead. "But I wanted to tell you sir." Doowon spoke to the limp body on the floor. "That I would like to take over by myself now. You're getting too old and I don't want you to interfere in my personal matters."

"How do you feel now Y/N? Better?" A pretty older woman was checking up on you. She wore a doctor's coat with the nametag 'Dr Kim' on it. She was Seungmin's aunt, the surgeon who had saved your life. "Well the pain has subsided a bit Dr.Kim. I still feel a bit dizzy every time I move, but I think I'm good now." Dr Kim warmly smiled at you as she checked your heartbeat. "Well in any case, I think you'll be fine by tomorrow. You can even walk around tomorrow if you like. But for now, just get some more sleep. I'll tell Minho and the boys not to disturb you alright?" Dr Kim gently squeezed your hand and packed up her equipment. She spoke to you as if you were her own child, with such delicate words and a comforting voice, something that your mother never gave you. "Um Dr Kim? Could you ask Minho to come up here please? If you don't mind?" "Of course honey! I'll ask him. Take care now." She gently kissed your forehead and went out the door.

"You wanted to see me?" Minho was dressed in a blue shirt, slightly open at the top and white pants. He looked so.... refined. And hot, exactly like a K drama CEO. God damn he looked delicious. Don't lick your lips. Do not lick your fucking lips Y/N. "Yeah I have some questions." Minho groaned as he shut the door and came forward to sit on the bed. "What now?" "Where did you get this bracelet?" You held up the bracelet to Minho, who looked at you, perplexed. "That's my bracelet, for your information. My mother gifted it to me. It's been in my family for centuries." Wait what now? "Minho stop fucking lying would you? My brother gave me this as a surprise gift when I was ten. And it went missing ever since the day he fucking died! So could you please tell me where the fuck you got this? Or I'm getting out of this bed and asking Chan." "Woah there princess." Minho looked at you, worried at your outburst. "Alright don't get out of bed please. I don't want you bleeding out and dying. But I'm telling the truth. This is the bracelet my mother gave me when I was twelve. It's been passed on from generation to generation in the Lee Family. It's a special bracelet, because it has these tiny chits inside the beads, telling the person who opens it who the next leader of, well, underground South Korea is going to be."

Too much information again. Number one, you could not stop staring at Minho's pretty pink lips. Number two, why did the chit inside the bead have your brother's name? And why did it say that he was alive?" "Wh-who puts the chits inside of this?" You asked Minho, carefully hiding the chit inside of your hand. "Well my uncle Wang dies. Jackson's dad. His great great great grandpa was the one who made this bracelet. So he has the right to choose the heir." "Minho I think you need to see this." You handed Minho the faded chit. He looked at it for a solid fifteen seconds before looking at you, blinking rapidly, just like how he does whenever someone surprises him. "Y/N oh fuck. Shit come on get up. Quick. I'll help you." "Wait Minho what? What happened?" You asked Minho as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, supporting you as you slowly got out the bed, and onto your legs. "Y/N we need to get to a safer place. If- if what this chit says is true, you're in more danger than I thought." "Wait Minho stop. Would you stop for a moment? Minho- Lee Minho!" You shouted his name, which made him stop in his tracks, arms still supporting your waist, even though you could still walk fine. "Would you please explain to me what's going on?" "Come down to the hall." Minho sighed and told you. "The boys, except Chan hyung, don't know either. So I can tell them and you at the same time. It'll be easier won't it?"

You nodded, not saying anything. Your mouth was dry and words were not escaping it. Gosh September was meant to be good. Why was it so full of surprises?

"Yah Minho Hyung! Auntie told noona can't get up until tomorrow." Seungmin said to Minho as both of you cam doen the stairs. All of the boys were pin the living room, immersed in their own work. Seungmin and Jeongin were playing chess and Chan was on his laptop as usual. "Chan hyung. I think I've figured out who the Mink Thief is." Chan's head snapped from his laptop to Minho so fast, that you swore you heard a cracking sound. The other boys' attention was also now on Minho. "Are you joking or are you actually telling the truth right now?" Minho smiled at Chan's words and set you down on the couch next to Changbin gently. "No I am not joking. Look at this." He handed Chan the bracelet and the chit, which Chan twirled in his gorgeous fingers, all the while looking at it as if it was some alien substance. "Oh fucking hell. Not him?" Minho nodded at Chan's exasperated words as Chan slumped in his chair, setting his laptop down on the table. "Can anyone explain what's going on please? Minho hyung?" Felix asked. "Alright bitches-" "language Minho" "Hyung stop being so old. Alright bitches listen up. So first of all let me introduce you to a man named Yoon Doowon, also known to us as The Mink Thief, who has been sending our families threats for a long time, also know to Y/N as her dead brother." "Yah! Rude!" "Anyways, one thing that Chan hyung found out a few days ago is that The Mink Thief has been in contact with my cousin, Jackson, ever since the day of Y/N's brother's murder. Also Y/N," he paused at looked into your eyes. "Whatever I'm about to say next will probably shock you so please don't faint out of surprise." You looked at Minho with the best offended eyes you could.

Minho then continued in a much more serious voice, "Yoon Danbi, Y/N's mom has been a spy for my family ever since I was born. Her and her husband had been placed here in Jeju Island along with their only daughter Yoon Jinhee, for an important mission. But soon, people grew suspicious of how both of them would act all the time, leaving their daughter alone for such long periods of time, coming home late at deadly hours and blah blah blah. So, in order to make their family seem much more 'normal', they took in two children. Choi Doowon and Jeon Y/N." "Minho what the fuck are you saying right now." Why were there so many surprises? Was your entire life a lie? Were you adopted for some stupid mission or something? What kind of Marvel shit was this? "Yeah this is why I said, don't faint out of shock." Minho slightly chuckled as Chan looked at repramandingly. "Look yes it's true your parents aren't your real parents. But the thing is your didn't even have parents. You came straight from the orphanage. So when my family took one look at you, someone with no background information which can be traced, they thought you were perfect for this mission. I mean, think of it Y/N, haven't you ever saw your parents hiding any documents from you or getting afraid when you asked for your birth certificate whenever you needed to register for your basketball games?" Yes, when you thought about it, they did do that.

"Hyung don't you think you should have had this conversation somewhere more private?" Felix looked from your distraught face to Minho's. "We probably should have but I have shit to tell all of you too." Minho said to his younger brother. "When Doowon supposedly died that night, Jackson Wang got a new partner in crime. Doowon was probably still alive. I know that no one can survive a fall like that, but I seriously don't know how he survived. So what I'm assuming from this tiny chit here, is that Jackson probably told Doowon the truth about his true parentage and all, and then like a basic villain, Doowon wanted revenge and now Y/N's life is basically a fantasy novel." "Ain't that right?" You scoffed. "My entire fucking life is a lie. I mean is my name even Y/N? Are we just living in a hallucination? What if all humanity is meant to do is just live our boring lives until a giant space turtle comes along and kills us all?" "That would be a cool way to die." Jisung said, not even a bit surprised by your rambling. "Jisung." Chan looked at Jisung with a glare. "Alright listen up everybody. Now that the sad backstory is out the way, we need to get down to buisness. First of all we need to get Y/N somewhere safe. Well safer. So Y/N, would you be willing to go along with Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin?" You nodded at Chan, who looked very relieved. "Great. Felix, Hyunjin, would both of you search out if Vernon's mansion is still protected and everything? " Felix and Hyunjin replied 'yes' to Chan and quickly went out the room. "Um noona we should get going. Can you walk by yourself?" Seungmin stood up and extended a hand to you, which you gratefully took and got up. "Yeah I can walk don't worry. Um where are we going?" Seungmin smiled at you, revealing his braces. "Don't worry about that. Just follow me to the car."

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting in the back of a Bentley with Jisung, with Seungmin driving and Jeongin stared out the window, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. "You're lucky Minho hyung gave us his car noona." Jisung commented. "He never even lets us touch it. But then again, we're with you, so I guess that makes up for it." You looked at Jisung's wavy hair and thought to yourself that how can a sweet boy like him, be Minho's best friend. "Jisung, when you said Minho doesn't stop talking about me to you guys, what exactly does he talk about?" "Oh noona I could write an entire seven book Series about that " Seungmin responded instead of Jisung. "He doesn't ever stop talking about what your favourite song is, or what you wore today or how your hair falls in such a perfect way. And when we tell him to just tell you that he is pathetically in love with you, he sulks and says that he would rather kill himself." Well that was certainly surprising. "Oh we're here." Jeongin said, as the car pulled up to a massive iron gate, which had the letters C, H and V on it. What it was guarding was a massive black mansion, which looked very much like a vampire's lair, covered in vines of ivy with a statue of bat hanging out in the big yard. "Chwe Hansol. Also known as Vernon. This is his mansion. He's a good friend of Chan Hyung's and he lets us use the mansion whenever we want. It's the safest place in Jeju Island so we'll be good here noona." Jisung told you, as you stepped out of the car. The mansion looked so ethereal and as you walked into the yard through the gate, you wondered if this was the mansion which was described in the story of the vampire Carmilla. You lived and breathed for that story and you were excited at the thought of hiding in a place which looked exactly like Carmilla's mansion, where she took the blood of her lover, weeping over her body, and complaining about her death.

The boys pushed open the big dual doors of the mansion with difficulty, but not before Jisung had entered a pass code on the tiny keyboard thing which was on the right side of the door. This was indeed Carmilla's mansion, you thought as you entered the big living room, which was decked from head to toe in gold and silver. There was a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling, along with busts of some vague looking people.

"Gosh this is so pretty." You said to Seungmin, who smiled and said "Wait till you see the ball room." You were about say 'theres a ball room here?' when suddenly the lights went out. "Ah fucking hell. Guys stay here with noona. I'll go and see what's wrong." You heard Jisung's voice. "I don't think you need to do that, my dear Mr.Han." you heard a cold voice, which didn't belong to any of the boys. "Who's ther-" Before Seungmin could finish his sentence, you felt a hit to your head, and you blacked out, before hearing Jisung shout, "Noona!"

"Y/Nnie. Wake up." Doowon said in a sing song voice. The boys were tightly tied up to the chairs, with cello tape around their mouths. You were also tied up to the big blue cushion chair, with Doowon, standing in front of you, wearing a red coat and that mink fur stole. He had three bodyguards with him, all buffer than Changbin, all carrying guns and all looking scary as fuck. "Y/N wake up you stupid bitch." Doowon slapped your face painfully, which made you slightly stir. "Hey don't do that she's injured!" Jisung shouted out, having managed to chew through his cello tape. Doowon looked at Jisung with a sarcastic smile and said nothing, while one of the bodyguards punched Jisung. "Doowon?" You had woken up and the surroundings were appearing more clearly now. Your stomach hurt so much and your brain was still fuzzy, except for your dead brother standing in front of you, smirking. "Oh hey Y/Nnie. You miss me?" He asked you in a cold voice you didn't recognise. Never September. This was not September's child standing in front of you. This wasn't September's child, who used to chase butterflies and gift you cute little stones, standing in front of you. "Doowon you're alive." You managed to cough out some words, along with a bit of blood. "Ahh yes I am. I assume your stupid boyfriend already told you what happened to me. So I'm going to skip over the part where I explain shit to you." He let out a cold laugh which made you flinch. "Doowon this isn't you. What are you doing?" You asked him, tears welling up in your eyes. "This isn't me? No Y/N this is me. I've been lied to my entire life and Jackson Wang told me the truth. He taught me the way to survive in our world. He's dead now by the way. Just like our 'parents'." "Doowon please. Stop this lunacy! Atleast let the boys go they haven't done anything wrong!" Doowon leaned down to your level and lifted your chin with his finger. You shivered at his cold touch. "Aww Y/N. Always so fucking innocent. Baby the boys are leverage. Soon the rest of the boys will be here and then after some introductions, I can finally rule all of South Korea." Your tears had escaped now as you looked over at the boys, who were knocked unconscious by the bodyguards. You felt like the most lowest human being on earth, when you looked at Jeongin's bleeding lip, wondering what Chan's reaction would be when he arrived here. "Brian! Go check if the doors are open please. I want them all to waltz in here and call for these pathetic boys. And then we'll hit them where they don't even know it hurts. Maybe we'll start with this one." He moved over to Jeongin. The man named Brian laughed and winked at Doowon. "I'll get the door sir." He moved out the room swiftly.

Fifteen minutes had passed. Fifteen silent minutes. This was silence which you did not enjoy. Silence was sweet in September, when only the Magpies chirped. But now, as you watched Jeongin and Seungmin slightly stir, silence became bitter. "Is Brian not coming? You!" Doowon shouted at one of the guards. "Go out and see where he is! Does it take this much time for the rascal to come back?" The guard obeyed and made to get up from his seat on a rickety wooden chair. BANG! A bullet shot went through the guards head, and as he slumped to the ground, with a pool of blood around his head, Doowon screamed and grabbed Jisung by his chin. "You! What have you done!" Jisung merely smirked at him as Doowon lay frozen there, staring at the body. "Oh for fucks sake what are both of you doing?" Doowon spat at the two remaining guards. "Go upstairs and check if the rats have entered the house already!" The guards nodded their heads fervently and went off in opposite directions, only to be met with two gunshots. The door burst open, as Minho and the remaining boys barged in.

"Doowon." Minho said coldly to Doowon, who merely smirked, trying to hide the fact that he had peed his pants a bit. "Well you found me didn't you? Good job Minho. You know Mr Wang told me how your family works. So I'm honoured that I'm actually getting to experience a member of the great Lee family trying to kill me." You were disgusted by his words. Where did your sweet Doowon go? Where did the boy whom you had cried for day and night go? "Let the boys and Y/N go. Now Doowon. And we won't have any consequences." Chan said to Doowon. He looked furious. You hadn't ever seen Chan like this. "Oh you can take the boys first and then I'll give you Y/N." Hearing that, Changbin and Hyunjin hurried forward, untied the boys, who were concious by now and supported them on their arms, as they carried them back to safety.

"Now Y/N's turn. Give her back to me Doowon and maybe you won't end up choking on your own blood tonight." Minho's voice made your heart go warm. He had nothing but cold fury in his voice. If you thought you had seen his anger on that one particular basketball match in Busan, you were mistaken.

"Now why would I do that? Sweet little Y/N is all ok tied up to his chair aren't you Y/Nnie?" He pulled your hair and kicked you hard in your stomach, which made you cough out blood. Yep, the stitches in your stomach had probably opened up. Fuck no, not now. Don't die in September. Let me wait for October. October seemed more comforting now. The Magpies had their babies in October. Im October, you could get boba on discount. In October, you could hand out with your friends whenever you want. In October, Minho would turn a year older. Wait how did you know that? Why was this room so fuzzy? Hey Minho's face. His beautiful face. It was going out of focus now. Good way to die isn't it. You hoped death came to you, wrapped in white silk and picked you up in her arms like a baby and put you in a cradle. A cradle painted orange and yellow. A cradle with Magpies on it. A cradle which loved all the months equally. But especially October. Especially October.

"Doowon, stop that! Stop fucking hurting her!" Minho screamed at Doowon. You were blacked out now and as Minho looked at your gently sleeping figure, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. "And what if I don't? What will you do oh great Lee Minho? I have her in my arms and I can do anything I wa-" That was the last thing Minho heard before all he saw was Doowon's dumb face, struck with shock, bullet hole in his big head, blood staining his already red suit and his stupid mentality finally gone from this world. "Good job Minho. Now come on let's get Y/N. Guys get Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin to the car. We'll get Y/N." Chan told the others, while Minho had already strode over to you. He hurriedly untied the ropes around your arms and legs and got you to his arms, fingers looking for your wrists, to check your pulse. Tears were coming out now. Tears he never knew would come for you. He loved you. So much. So much it was honestly pathetic. The way you scowled everytime you saw him, the way your eyes lit up whenever you got a high test score, the way you cherished December for your birthday, the way you existed. He loved everything about you. And he can't lose you. Not now. Not ever.

"Feeling good kitten?" You had woken up in Minho's house again, with Dr Kim checking your heartbeat and adjusting your blood pump. "Minho." You managed to breath out weakly, making Minho's heart drop again. He was quick to stand up and cup your face in his arms gently as tears poured out of your eyes. "Hey hey hey don't cry." He said so gently, in a tone which he never used with you. "No Y/N. Shh. I've got you. You're safe. You're safe." He hugged you gently, supporting your head with his hands as you silently sobbed into his shirt. Once you pulled away, you noticed that his shirt was wet from all the crying and that his eye bags were more prominent. "Im sorry. I'm so sorry Minho. I-I really didn't know about..... about him and I caused you all this trouble. I am so sorry." "Hey hey princess. Y/N listen to me." You looked into his eyes, which were twinkling into yours. "None of it is your fault. You hear me? None of it. If anything, I should have told you all that I know earlier but I couldn't. Because- because I- I love you Y/N." That was it. That's all it took. That's all it took, for your eyes to widen, your hands to reach up to his jaw and for your lips to meet his, in a slow dance accompanied by the melodies of the Magpies outside, celebrating that you two had finally realised your love for each other. You pulled away after what felt like a very short time, but you were running out of breath. Minho and you stared at each other for a while and then burst into giggles. "That felt nice princess. You sure you haven't kissed anyone before?" You slapped his chest playfully as you said "Yah! Don't make me think back about being your girlfriend Lee Minho." Minho's eyes lit up and he stuttered out "Girlfriend? Yep I'm in a dream someone pinch me." You rolled your eyes as you pinched him and he let out a tiny scream. "Oh stop so dramatic. How long was I out by the way? And are the boys alright?" "You were out for two days now kitten. And the boys are good. Jisung is saying he finally got his 'Wattpad best friend gets kidnapped moment' and I think Chan told Dr Kim to double his dosage of sleeping pills so now he's crashed out. And snoring loudly."

"Noona you're awake!" Felix had come into the room, well more like bounced into the room along with the rest of the boys, Seungmin sporting a cast, and Jeongin having a pink band-aid on his lip. Felix hugged you tightly while Chan hugged Minho. "Lix let her go. She needs to breath." Chan said to Felix, who had been hugging you for a long time now. "Seungmin, Jeongin are you guys ok now? I am literally so sorry." Jeongin smiled at you sweetly, his fox like eyes forming crescents and said, "We're good noona. Technically we should be asking you that question. And it's fine please don't apologise." He bowed a bit to you and as you tried to bow back, whilst sitting, Hyunjin said, to Minho "So hyung. Have you finally got your ass together and asked noona out?" Minho glared at Hyunjin as everyone else in the room laughed. "You will be getting your mouth stuffed tonight Hyunjin. And yes I have asked her out. And now she's my girlfriend." "Yah who said I was your girlfriend?" You jokingly said. "Ok I'm gonna ask Jisung out then." Minho said standing up.

Four years later

You had been living with Minho for four years now, as his live-in Girlfriend. He had introduced you to his parents, who had been nothing less that kind to you. They had first apologized profusely for the whole Doowon incident, to which you told them that you really didn't care. You had Minho with you and all of your past had slowly faded away.

And every year as October and September came, you learnt to cherish ,not the month, but the memories you made every day. You learnt to forever keep memories of you, your boyfriend, your friends and everyone around you. You learnt how to let go of grief easily.

And when Minho proposed to you, on the twenty first night of December, you learnt, you just needed someone a bit older, and a bit colder, to teach you what it meant to love a person like you'd love a month.

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hanfocus · 4 months

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HAN & LEE KNOW ♡ Want So BAD (Live Ver.)

#just a man and his cat (real)#han jisung #forhanji #lee know #linosource #bystay #stray kids #m*#gifs #2 kids show #minho #also nobody look to hard at these i was too lazy to fix the quality </3

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stephanleyhes · 8 months

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those little hearts <3 random skz gifs [14/x]

#lee minho #lee know #oma*#stray kids #kpop #skz #bystay #finally got around to fix and match the sharpening #my posting times do be random

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jerirose · 1 year

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Home, Sweet Home [Retouched] © Jeri Rose | INPRNT

#I finally got around to fixing this painting 🥺#lee know #lee minho #stray kids #skz #bystay #stays art #stray kids fanart #skz fanart #lee know fanart #digital portrait #digital painting #digital art #ditigal art #artists on tumblr #jeri rose

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nanamikentoseyebags · 2 months

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lino going live for 5 MINUTES after disappearing for god knows how many weeks feels like winning the lottery

#im FIXED #no anxiety whatsoever #never been anxious in my life #thank you mr sir for blessing me #lee know #lee minho

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gimmeurtmi · 4 months

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no nut november — 2min

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho

tags: established relationship, polyamory, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, alcohol, throuple, heavy mxm, use of “bunny”, “bubs”, "baby," clubbing, voyeurism, a no nut november bet, 2min who are little shits, reader is implied demisexual but can be read otherwise, fingering, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, lmk what i forgot <3

inspo: i mustn’t say 🤭

notes: one might ask, “lils, why tf are you posting a no nut november fic in january?” and i will simply answer “time is but a cage i cannot be locked into.”. no but seriously i had this idea in like october and well. you know. so i finished it now because i missed my 2min throuple verse! im not madly in love with this and i didn’t know how to end it but i also thought it was lowkey cute so here it is!!! mwah! <3

{ wc: 4638}

“You two are crazy,” you scoffed, before taking another sip of your brightly coloured cocktail. It was Minho’s birthday celebration, albeit two days later than the actual birthday, but it was the weekend and easier for your schedules to align for a night out.

“Come on, bubs, we’re serious,” Seungmin said, pushing his elbows forward and inching closer to you. It was odd of the pair of them to sit together and not fight for the seat beside you on the booth, but now you’ve understood they had an ulterior motive tonight. Trying to rope you into their craziness.

“I have no issues with not having sex,” you start, shaking your head at Minho’s brow raise, “you both know that’s not the thing I care about here.”

“Exactly,” Seungmin grinned. “You love us and not our monster di—“

“—shush!!” You quickly urged him, watching your waitress approach your table to check on your service. You order six more shots.

“I don’t understand the game, then,” you looked between them, eyeing them suspiciously.

“We were talking about it, and I think out of the three of us Seungminnie is least likely to make it,” Minho explained.

“But I’m a virgo,”

“But he’s a virgo,” you both echoed. Minho rolled his eyes with a small fond smile on his face, shaking his head.

“Yes, there’s that. And we kept going back and forth about it so we thought we should just try it and see who actually makes it a whole month.”

“This is incredibly stupid,” you decide, quickly shutting your mouth when the waitress arrives with your shots. You take one immediately and down it.

“You’ve done stupider things,” Seungmin said, leaning back in his chair. He’s close to admitting defeat, you can tell. And so can Minho, so he turns his full attention to you and grabs your hands.

“It’ll be so fun, come on. Imagine how frustrated the puppy will get when he keeps trying to hump our—“

“—hey!” Seungmin slapped Minho’s shoulder, earning an endeared giggle from the older.

“Why do you two wanna do it so bad?” You squinted at Minho, watching as he fixes his gaze on yours in determination.

“Because I wanna be right,” he rubs his thumb against your hand. “I think he’ll crack first, and then you. And then me.”

“I will last a whole month. Maybe even two.”

“Bubs, this isn’t just no sex with us. This is no touching at all. Nothing,” Seungmin tries.

“No kissing even?” You squeak.

“Yes kissing!” Minho practically yells, squeezing your hand tightly. He looks between the pair of you, alarmed as his bunny teeth peek out of his gasp. “Definitely lots of kissing!”

Seungmin laughs almost evilly at the pair of you, his bangs hiding his eyes slightly as he shakes his head.

“So just no sexual stuff,” you try to clarify. “That’s too easy.”

“Then let’s do it!” Minho exclaimed, grabbing one of the two shots placed in front of him and downing it with a dramatic head swing.

Seungmin rolls his eyes before downing one of his pair.

“I feel like you two are up to something,” you say, tapping your fingers against Minho’s palm. Seungmin scoffs.

“Why would we be up to something, bubs?”

“Yeah, bunny,” Minho blinks innocently, “what would we be up to?”

You scrutinise Minho’s ears, studying them carefully for any sign of redness—but the ambience is relaxed and luxurious around you, which for whatever reason means there’s barely enough light to tell if Minho’s ears are telling the truth or not.

“Hey,” Seungmin grabs your arm, squeezing softly, “let’s just forget about it, then. Hyung and I thought it would be funny but if you don’t want to then there’s nothing to discuss.”

“I’ll think about it,” you conclude.

It’s then you remember the other round of shots you each have waiting in front of you, and gesture to your boyfriends for a cheers. You dedicate it to Minho’s birthday before clinking your glasses together. Then, after three more rounds, Minho decides he’s ready for the club.

It’s packed full of people, Minho’s arm protectively wrapping around your stomach as he shields you from behind. Seungmin holds your hand tightly in front you, the three of you single file as he pushes through the sea of party goers. It’s just the last Saturday of October, it shouldn’t be so busy, but Minho says he wants to stay so the three of you stay.

Seungmin pushes all the way to the very heart of the dance floor where the bass is so loud you feel it in your ribcage. You can barely see anything around you—bodies pushing you from one side to the other, but you know it’s safe since Minho is completely behind you. Like your personal shield.

You tug Seungmin’s hand, pulling him closer to you until he stumbles, Minho’s other arm reaching for Seungmin’s spare one.

The three of you start dancing along to whatever overplayed club tune is on, so close no one could possibly separate you. So close you feel Minho’s hardness against your ass. You couldn’t exactly classify it as dancing, at least not by any standards Minho would allow. You’re basically just grinding on each other in time with the music. It’s a very fast song.

“Seung,” you have to yell in his ear, “he’s gonna get needy if we keep dancing like this.”

Seungmin, always quick to solve problems—or indeed, make them worse—grabs Minho by the back of his head and kisses him as messily as he possibly can. The grip on your hip tightens, and even the music isn’t loud enough to drown out Minho’s deep moan. You aren’t actually sure if you heard it or you could feel it vibrating against you but soon Minho grabs your jaw and starts kissing around it, Seungmin attaching his lips to yours.

The three of you aren’t the biggest participants of PDA, mainly because of the judgemental eyes that it brings with it, but the veil of alcohol and club induced horniness means you know you can get away with it here. Besides, it’s so dark and incredibly loud that no one is really paying attention to the three of you anyway.

You feel Minho sucking onto your skin, your senses clouded by Seungmin’s tongue—but Minho’s hands are obviously inchining higher and higher, getting dangerously close to your chest.

“Min,” you let out softly, detaching yourself from Seungmin for only a moment to let out your weak sounding warning.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Minho grumbles, grabbing Seungmin and you by the wrist as he pushes his way outside.

A very tense taxi ride back, and almost two hours of worshipping the birthday boy later—the three of you fall on the bed, naked and sweaty and spent.

As the one with the most working limbs, it’s your turn to get water and snakes and warm clothes to change into. You quickly wrap yourself up in your fuzzy robe before running to the kitchen. You grab two bottles and the fruit Minho cut up before you left “just in case” as if you weren’t all aware your evening would end the way it did.

When you returned, hands full, you saw a rare tenderness shared between your boyfriends you don’t often get to see.

They’re too often caught up in their fake bickering and inability to show their feelings that it can be easy to forget just how much they love each other.

You try not to make too much noise, not to disrupt their bubble as you watch Seungmin, a love sick puppy look in his eyes as he combs Minho’s sweaty hair back from his face, before he leans down to kiss him ever so softly.

Minho barely moves, which is expected after what the pair of you did to him, and smiles softly against Seungmin’s full lips. You feel your heart bursting at the sight of them, so wrapped up with each other, and it gets harder and harder not to join them. Not to mention your full hands.

You slowly sit down on the bed, Minho’s fingers blindly reaching for your hand and you wrap your fingers around his once you put all your items to the side. You were going to grab clothes too but Minho isn’t going to let go of your hand any time soon—so you simply admire the scene, your boyfriends exchanging soft kisses.

“Hyungie,” Seungmin giggles after a few minutes, “you can’t fall asleep yet.”

“But—“ he puckers his lips up, perfectly pillowy as he demands more kisses. His eyes are closed shut, a small muted whine leaving him as he’s left kissless for more than two seconds. Seungmin looks up at you with his signature shit eating grin and gestures for you to give him an apple slice, promptly shoving it into Minho’s puckered up lips.

Minho only opens his eyes for a moment to recognise what’s been shoved into his lips, before he obediently gets to eating his fruit with his eyes still shut.

Seungmin gestures to the water bottle, telling you in sign language he’d like to dunk all of it on the incredibly peaceful Minho below him. You laugh loudly before crossing your hands in an X.

Minho silently demands more, and you have to sit him up this time to properly eat and hydrate, and the three of you finish all the fruit and water in relative silence.

It’s only after you’ve washed and dressed (and Seungmin changed the sheets) that Minho speaks up.

“That was a really good birthday,” he mumbles, incredibly tired now that most of the adrenaline wore off.

“You’re gonna be really sore tomorrow though,” Seungmin chuckles, ignoring the pout Minho sends his way.

You giggle, agreeing with Seungmin before you wrap your arms around his middle and promptly fall asleep.

Seungmin makes your coffee the way you like it the next morning. Minho is still asleep and you decide you don’t want to disturb him yet.

The pair of you listen to the news for a bit and then put on a rerun of a variety show before you speak up halfway through the episode. Seungmin quickly lowers the volume.

“We should do it,” you say, sipping from your lukewarm coffee.

“Do what?”

“Your stupid no sex for a month pact,”

“Was the sex that bad last night?” He blinks at you, mouth gaped and perfectly round.

“Maybe it was just that good that you broke my cunt and I need a month off,” you raise your eyebrows at him.

Seungmin starts to smirk just as a grumbled voice says, “yeah, me too. Never touch me again, Kim Seungmin.”

Minho crashes on the chair next to yours, groaning as he sits down, before nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

“So you two agree I have a monster d—“

“Seung!” You both yell out.

November 28th

The boys have been away for weeks.

They didn’t quite consider the pact they made was perfectly timed with their packed schedule and so there was no real way for you to break it anyway. Even if you were to resort to the classic solution of phone sex, they rarely had time.

There was always a good night text, and a good morning selfie, and the unappealing close ups of Minho’s food for the day. Your group chat was still as active as ever with the boys exchanging stories and you sharing all your personal gossip with them.

But there was no time to think about the bet.

That was until they came back home two days ago.

You were doing perfectly fine before they had to be in your house every day, sharing your bed, walking around with just a towel after their morning showers.

Both of them were incredibly irritating that way—existing next to you without instigating anything, without sharing tender kisses with you while they touched your body.

You meant what you said then, of course the sexual aspect of your relationship wasn’t a top priority but there was an intimacy you craved with your boyfriends that you always felt during sex and with them being gone for work for the better part of a month, it was the first thing you wanted when they came back.

But you stayed strong, you wouldn’t let yourself be the one to lose.

Last night you fell asleep before the boys even came back home, but at some point you felt hands around your shoulders and a knee against yours and so you knew they were back with you.

And in the morning after blinking your eyes open, you were met with Minho’s beautiful face. You smiled softly to yourself, a content sigh leaving your chest as you snuggled closer to your boyfriend. The other side of the bed was empty, but you could hear a faint melody coming from the shower, so you knew Seungmin was awake and well, too.

After spending the morning cuddling with a half sleeping Minho–Seungmin only annoying you once when he walked over and kissed your shoulder in greeting, before shaking his wet hair all over the pair of you–you had to get up to do some errands around town.

Your boyfriends offered to come with you but you insisted they shouldn’t, after all, Minho could barely keep his eyes open for more than ten minutes and Seungmin had a vocal lesson in an hour. You didn’t want them to go out of their way for you when you needed to take care of boring adult stuff anyway.

While you were still stuck in traffic, Seungmin sent you half a dozen pictures of Minho’s sleeping face with a text that said ‘help me hide his corpse’.

You knew Seungmin was obviously bored but you couldn’t possibly help him from so far away, instead you challenged him to a game of one on one trivia through an app you both liked.

At one point, when your phone said you were still thirty minutes away from home, Seungmin didn’t take his turn–so you concluded that either Minho woke up or Seungmin found something more interesting to do.

When you got back home half an hour later, you discovered exactly what it was that Seungmin found more interesting than your trivia game.

“I’m home!” You announced as you walked in, quickly taking your shoes off and washing your hands. It was quiet in the house otherwise, and with the door to the bedroom closed you assumed they were both napping again. They always came home tired from their schedules and the mixture of jet leg so you tried your best to make a snack as quietly as possible.

But then you heard a moan.

“Seungminnie,” Minho said softly through the walls, “so good.”

You quickly snapped up from your chair, rushing towards the bedroom.

You had no doubt about what you heard (Minho was never good at volume control) but you still wanted to confirm it fully. Slowly, quietly, you opened the door to the bedroom. And there, sure enough, were your boyfriends half naked, kissing, their hands down each others’ boxers.

They haven’t noticed you yet, Minho's eyes were closed in pure pleasure as Seungmin switched between kissing him and moaning against his cheek. You could see both their hands moving in sync as they jerked each other off—still completely unaware you could see everything.

At least you won their stupid bet.

You always love being the centre of their attention, but watching them was a completely intoxicating experience. Getting to notice every little quirk of Minho’s eyebrows as the pleasure took over him, watching Seungmin’s uncaring facade disappear as he gets lost in the feeling his boyfriend provides. You could feel your wetness soaking through your clothes, you could feel the dull throb of arousal between your legs—but you didn’t want to do anything other than watch them. You should probably make your presence known, but all you wanted to do was keep watching.

You could tell Minho was getting close since he scrunched his eyes shut and started whimpering out Seungmin’s name, and you could tell Seungmin was close since he wasn’t making any noises at all, and you watched in awe as they sped up their movements.

“Hyung, I’m close,” Seungmin whimpered out.

“Me too,” Minho groaned. “Together baby, okay?”

You had to stop yourself from moaning out loud at their words, from gushing at the small kiss Minho pressed against Seungmin’s lips before the pair of them groaned out together as they came.

Seungmin is the first to open his eyes, and he reaches for some wipes to help clean them both up. He smiles, soft, as he kisses Minho’s cheek.

“Do you feel better, baby?” He asked, barely above a whisper.

Minho smiles, one thin line, as he nods quickly before shutting his eyes and snuggling into Seungmin’s chest.

They still haven’t noticed you.

“You want to sleep more?” Seungmin asks as he plants a kiss on the top of Minho’s head.

“I wanna make dinner before Y/N gets back, she’s probably gonna be hungry when she gets here.”

You feel your heart speed up at the mention of your name, but they haven’t even looked in your direction yet. So you don’t move.

“Okay, let’s rest for a bit first,” Seungmin concludes. Minho hums in agreement, moving closer to his chest and planting a small kiss on his heart.

“I don’t think she’s been eating well while we were gone,” Minho mumbles, “you two are exactly the same. If I don’t cook it’s only takeout for your lazy asses.”

“That’s rude,” you chuckle.

They both gasp, and Minho’s eyes shoot right open as he realises what he’s heard.

“Bubs!” Seungmin yells. “H-how long have you been home?”

“Long enough,” you smile, as innocently as you can allow yourself, before making your way over to the bed. You sit on the edge of it trying your best to keep a serious face as the boys look at you slightly apprehensive.

They both sit up, moving away from each other as if to prove that definitely nothing happened between them two seconds ago.

“But how long?” Minho asks, eyes wide.

“I should ask you two the same thing, no?” You tilt your head to the side, eyebrows high on your face.

Seungmin chuckles nervously, looking at Minho before looking back at you.

“Nothing happened, you know. We were just cuddling,” Minho is quick to say.

“Right,” you nod, “of course.”

“Seriously, bubs, it’s was just—“

“—you two cumming at the same time?” They both let out a sigh of defeat, realising they can’t possibly lie to you since you’ve seen it all unfold.

Minho shakes his head softly before reaching for your wrist. He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand before sighing softly.

“Truth is, we made the bet because we wanted to see how horny you’d get,” Minho rolls his eyes, “but it just made Kim Seungmin more unbearable than usual.”

“Lee Minho,” he says quickly, “that is not the truth.”

“He doesn’t even respect his elders,” Minho mumbled at you, a disapproving frown on his lips. You roll your eyes before turning to Seungmin with a questioning raise of your brows.

“Hyung got horny first,” Seungmin corrects him.

“I did not,” he retaliates.

“You did. You dragged me to the dressing room after MuCore and you—“ Minho slaps his hand onto Seungmin’s mouth, his upper lip curling in on itself as he tried his best not to yell too much at his boyfriend.

“It was a frustrating day,” Minho explains, trying to regain some of his pride back.

All you can do is laugh. “So your plan to make me horny backfired on you?”

They both nod. “I was embarrassed about it so we didn’t want to tell you, we thought we’d just let the month end and not bring it up again.”

“Hyung,” Seungmin sighs. They share a look between themselves, something you can’t understand, before Seungmin turns to you. He plants a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything. We had a lot of sex this month,”

“Like, a lot,” Minho agrees with a giggle.

“And we wanted to tell you! But we also thought it would be funnier if you cracked like Minho did.”

“I told you guys it was a stupid idea,” you grin.

“You’re not mad we didn’t tell you?” Seungmin asks, and Minho squeezes your hand tightly.

“No,” you shrug, “it’s not like you did anything wrong. You just proved that I’m the best out of the three of us,” you giggle—laughing harder when Seungmin’s mouth gaps.

“So it’s all good? We’re fine?” Minho asks.

You hum softly. “You had a lot of sex this month, right?” They nod. “And I haven’t had any at all.”

“True,” Minho starts playing with your fingers, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“So we need to balance the scales a little, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Seungmin nods eagerly, jumping forward to grab your hips and plant you firmly on his lap.

Instantly, Minho straddles Seungmin’s knees, wrapping his arms around your middle. Seungmin grabs your jaw, crashing his tongue against yours as you moan into his mouth. You didn’t realise just how much you were craving your boyfriends touch until that very second you received it and then your whole body lit on fire with the longing you had for them.

You didn’t even need to ask for more, as before your brain could even tell your tongue to use words, Minho was taking off your shirt and bra. He cups your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples as you moan loudly.

A month without touching yourself, days of your lovers cuddling up to you in your sleep, and then watching them cum at the same time has all caused you such extreme horny brain fog you didn’t even know what to do with yourself or how to react. All you could do was throw your head back onto Minho’s shoulder and let your hips chase the pleasure you craved against Seungmin’s lap.

“Seungminnie,” Minho coaxed softly, “can you suck on bunny’s tits for us?”

Seungmin eagerly nods, his hair jumping with the motion before he wraps his full lips around your nipple. Minho kisses your shoulder before he runs a hand through Seungmin’s hair with a soft, “good job.”

Seungmin’s lips sent waves of pleasure up and down your body, an aching throb shaking against your core as you grow more and more desperate. Luckily, neither one of them is in any position to make fun of you or hold it against you. In fact, they’re both so eager to keep making you feel good.

Minho slips his hand into your underwear, quickly finding your clit and rubbing figure eights against it in a bruising pace.

You don’t think more than ten seconds pass before you grab Seungmin’s hair tightly, and chant out that “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.”

Minho kisses your neck as it rushes over you, while Seungmin squeezes your thighs as they start shaking.

Your vision blurs for a moment or two before you refocus, and catch sight of a bewildered Seungmin wiping his lips.

“Bubs that was so fucking quick,” he sighs, amazed. “How?”

“Min, I need another one,” is all you provide for an explanation.

Minho is quick to follow his orders and resumes his previous pace as he rubs your clit again. It takes a few seconds longer and Seungmin notices, so he quickly gets back to teasing your tits for the extra stimulation you’d need. It doesn’t take long after that, and although your walls flutter around emptiness it’s so much better than not cumming at all. You moan loudly as it hits your entire body.

Minho plants kisses all around your face as you catch your breath, but you don’t even care about breathing. You mumble out, “more.”

“My turn this time!” Seungmin rushes out, pulling your underwear off and softly rubbing your sensitive clit.

Minho leaves you with a firm kiss before he lays back down next to Seungmin, watching your face with laser focus.

“You’ve been waiting for this, bunny?” He says lowly. You nod quickly as you make no effort to stop the broken moans tumbling out your chest. “Your cunt has been so eager for us, huh?”

“M-Min, I’ll fucking cum again—“ Seungmin applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing as hard and as fast as he can before you fall forward with the impact of another orgasm.

“Holy fuck,” you say once you catch your bearings.

“That was fun,” Seungmin grins. “Want more, bubs?”

“Yeah, yes,” you moan, still aching for more as your clit throbs, “want something inside me.”

The boys exchange a look before Minho rubs your shoulder. He drags you off Seungmin’s lap, slowly, before he places you between the pair of them.

He makes sure to spread your legs as you get comfortable on your back.

“I’m not ready yet,” he says with a small kiss to your temple, “think my fingers will be enough?”

“Please,” you nod.

“I’m not ready either,” Seungmin says while lacing his fingers with yours, “but since my hand is much bigger wouldn’t you prefer my fingers?”

“I-I-I,” is all you manage to stutter out, your brain too slow after three orgasms. You don’t even know who they’re trying to tease, you or the other, but there’s only one thing on your mind. “I just wanna cum.”

“But you already did, my pretty bunny,” Minho brushes your lips together softly, “are you gonna be so greedy that you’ll ask for both our fingers for a fourth orgasm?”

“How many times has Seung made you cum in the past month?” You manage to accuse.

“About fifteen? fourteen?” Minho shrugs.

“Then you owe me twelve more,” you whine.

Minho nods slowly, blinking a few times before he smiles. “Mine or Kim Seungmin’s?”

“Both,” you groan, “just take turns I don’t care.”

“Fuck that’s demanding,” Seungmin chuckles dryly. “Guess we do owe her, though.”

“Guess we do,” Minho shrugs.

Seungmin leans down to kiss your neck softly and you feel his hand sliding up your thigh, slowly circling your entrance before sinking inside you. The stretch feels so good it echoes to your thighs and you moan loudly as it deepens. You feel Minho’s fingers crawl up your thigh before your walks tighten as more slips inside you. You blink your eyes open to see it was in fact both of them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you sob out as you feel six fingers inside you, a loud and wet noise accompanying their movements as they slide their fingers in and out, perfectly synchronised with each other.

“Minho-hyung made me cum twenty times, so we owe you thirty two all together,” Seungmin says simply.

You clench tightly at those words, at your boyfriends’ promise, and they both smirk at each other when they feel it.

It was a long evening after that, the boys insisting on going until you had to tap out and say you couldn’t take anymore. They kissed you softly and apologised again but you told them they were certainly forgiven. You didn’t even actually need twenty nine more orgasms from them. But they insisted that was the only way to make it up to you that they even suggested such a silly bet just to get a reaction out of you.

Minho does eventually feed you, and Seungmin brushes your hair after your shared shower, and they promise to keep kissing you until you fall asleep.

They never break any of their promises to you, and by the second week of December their debt is cleared too.

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becomingmina · 5 months

Note

Hii, I loved your „Favourite time and place to eat you out” for skz. Can you do the one with favourite time and place for you too go down on them?

thank you, xoxo

Thank you for the request!!!! @leeknowlover99 💌 This was so fun. (Not proofread 🙃)

Chris/Bang Chan: In bed after he comes back from practice.

Chan hops out of the shower and makes his way over to you, who’s occupied with your book on the bed. He is in nothing but his towel wrapped around his hip, water still dripping from the ends of his curly hair into his broad shoulder.

“Hi baby,” he says happily, hopping on the bed positioning his pillows behind him so he’s comfortable.

“How was practice?” You asked putting down your book and directing all your attention to your boyfriend.

“Good. Everything went well but it went on for so long.”

“Should I reward you with something then? For practicing so for long? You asked back sweetly and he just nods, patting his covered thigh. You peeled back his towel, meeting his half harden dick. Soon you were slotted in between his legs with your ass up, eyes looking up at Chan taking his dick in your hand and slowly licking it to get him fully hard.

“Need more please baby,” he whimpers under you and without teasing your sweet boy any longer you take him to the back of your throat and gagging around him. Chan is unable to resist it when you take care of him. It makes him feel so small and loved, it gets him so soft and calm after a long day at practice.

Lee know/Lee Minho: In the kitchen when you help him bake/cook.

“Let me help you,” Minho comes up from behind you to give you a back hug, moving the spoon from your hand pretending to help you stir the batter, just so he can press his hard on to your ass.

“Min..” you scolded but not moving from him.

“What? I just wanna help you make our cupcakes,” you can feel him smirk in your neck.

“It’s pancakes we’re making by the way,” you giggled turning around, tiptoeing to peck his lips. “If you want your dick sucked just ask?” Your hands rest on the waistband of his shorts not breaking eye contact.

“I want my dick suck,” Minho giggles back and instantly you kneeled down dragging his shorts with you, coming into contact with his hard member that’s sprung free slapping against his lower abdomen. His hands make the way to move your hair out of your face and he watches you take him inside your mouth at your own pace. “Bunny, we should cook together more,” Minho can’t control himself when you take on wifey duties. He just loves how good you are at it and thinks it’s hot when you’re focused on getting everything perfect.

Seo Changbin: Recording room, late late at night.

It’s become a traditional thing now to tag along with Binnie at 2am when he says he needs to go back to work on the tracks for the next album. You continue to lie to the rest of 2racha and Hyunjin that you’re just there for moral support and that Binnie gets scared at that time of night, but you’re pretty sure they know what you two are up to, especially when nothing on the tracks are edited or fixed when they look into it the next day.

“What if I record the sounds one day and just slap it on one of our thrist tracks?” Bin says as you pull down his pants a little releasing his hard dick already dripping with pre cum.

“Well then you have to give me credit for it,” you smile up at him taking in the sexy smirk he gave. You keep your eyes on him witnessing the way his mouth open a bit and how his eyes are shut tight as you begin to swipe around his tip.

The sloppy wet sounds starts to fill up the recording room while you bob back and forth on his length with the help of his hand behind your head. Bin loves when you go down on him in the recording studio as he is able to let out his loud moans and whimpers without anyone hearing them.

Hwang Hyunjin: On his bed after his goes live.

I loved that one live when he is in his cute pyjamas pants and he’s man-spreading on the fkn bed. I want him.

“Do you guys like my pyjamas?” Hyunjin just becomes so cute yet such a tease when he goes on live. You watch him manspread on the bed, eyes landing down on his crotch every now and then to signal to him what you want. He catches on but continues to talk to his fan teasing you a little bit longer - before letting you get what you’ve been yearning off of course.

He turns off the phone after saying good bye and you pulls you into his lap. You start to shower him with kisses from his face down to his neck then down his body over his clothes. He spreads his legs a bit wider and now you sit in between him leaning on your knees.

“Hyun, please?” You press a kiss over his covered cock and waits for him to approve your request. He guides your hand to rest on his thighs and the does all the work pulling down on his pants finally releasing his red hot dick. You gulped at the sight, giving it big widen eyes, wanting to taste it immediately but being the good and obedient girlfriend you are, you wait until he verbal confirms.

“Make me cum doll,” he guides his length into your mouth then his fingers move to caress yours, which was still on his thighs. Your moans are muffled by the way you deep throat him “I love when you get all needy for me when I pay attention to stays. You look so cute with your mouth all full-” he moans trying his best to stay in control even though Hyunjin knows he’s was close to painting your throat white.

Han/Han Jisung: Bathroom stall during dinner.

“I want to cum,” Ji whispered to your ears.

“Not here, wait till we get home,” you whisper back but he shakes his head no. You’ve been riling him up, palming him through his jeans the minute you guys entered the restaurant. Well to be very honest, he started it first hiking his hand from your thigh up during the car ride to dinner.

“Need you now, I want your mouth,” you instantly shiver at the words. Ji was loud in bed so you know it wouldn’t work sucking him off in public because you guys were bound to get caught. But there was a bit inside of you that wanted to punish Ji for getting you aroused. You wanted to see how if he can last without letting out a moan, so you agreed.

“If you stay quiet for me, you can top when you get home,” you provoked him, his eyes wide open. It was something he’s been asking for ever since you guys fucked.

Ji followed you to the bathroom telling the guys you needed help to undo your playsuit, everyone brushed it off. You pull him into the toilets and backed him against the door undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans and boxers to pull around his ankles. You lick a stripe from his balls to his tip and Ji right away let out a loud moan.

“Naughty boy, you won’t get to top later,” you chuckled up, halting your movements, taking him his is fucked out appearance. “But you’re lucky I’m only hungry for your dick tonight,” you reassured him before gripping his base and directing him in your mouth. Ji continues to let out his beautiful loud moans, not caring about who is behind the other side of the door.

Felix/Lee Yongbok: In dressing room before he heads on stage. Have you guys seen skz’s documentary for the 5-star dorm tour? At 20:43 🥵 Because gosh, he’s just so messy there and it’s so so so hot.

Felix was angry with himself. He wasn’t able to get his moves precise and with the concert on tomorrow he had no other options but to bottle up his stress to himself.

“You okay baby?” You asked noticing his demeanour. Felix usually has a lot to say when reviewing his performance or trying on his stage outfits but you detected how silent he was getting. “You need to relax baby, let me help you,” and with that you drop onto your knees and cling his grey sweat pants that was already sitting low on his waist, pulling them down. “Not wearing anything under? Always ready for me hey baby?” You look up at him lustfully, already getting yourself dick-drunk at the sight of his length.

Something about mad Felix got your heart pumping. He looks so gorgeous with his fluffy messy hair and his (yours) headband holding it away from his soft features which was now tensed. You pump him a few times before sticking out your tongue waiting for him to take control. Felix guides your head onto him as he thrusts your mouth, bitting his bottom lip to conceals his moan.

“Mhm- Y/n I love it when you come rehearsal with me,” he praises you as you suck the soul out of him. “Always knowing how to calm me down.. Gonna cu- I’m gonna cum,” and shortly with a hard plunge he releases his warm seeds down your throat. “Thank you baby,” he cooed out of breathe, pulling back to wipe your lips with his thumb.

Kim Seungmin: Waking him up in the morning.

Seungmin is just such a hot boyfriend 🥲

You feel something hard just sitting ontop of your ass when you woke up. Oh someone’s horny already you thought to yourself and grind back on it. You were expecting your boyfriend to grip your waist for you to stay still but he doesn’t. The arm that was draped around your waist stayed perfectly still. You tried again, this time harder, “You awake Minnie?”

“Mhm- baby,” a soft whimper slips from his mouth. Oh Seungmin was still asleep and hard. You could some fun from this. You turned around and push him on his back then completely removing the blanket off him. You palm him to see any sign that he was awake yet but none, he was still.

You pull down his shorts a little to release his morning wood, leaping out to hit his lower abdominal. As you press a lick to his tip his hand sprung from his side and gripped your hair, getting up from the bed to witness your little mischief.

“I’m awake but continue princess,” he says before guiding you down on him. He leans his head back onto the pillow taking in sharp breaths as you go all the way, nose hitting his pelvic bone. “I should fake asleep more often knowing my perfect girlfriend would make me cum even without me asking.”

Yang Jeongin: When he is in a middle of a game.

You’ve been dying for his attention all day and Jeongin knows it. But he was too occupied in a game with Felix and Seungmin for boyfriend duties just yet.

“Baby, if you want me so bad, just suck me off and I’ll give you sex after this round,” he taunts you. You crawl under the computer desk and he helps lift his hip to shimmy down his pants before his dick is free. You jerk him off a little then start to press little kisses on it to get him to harden. You begin to bob up and down in his length making sure it hits your throat every time and in returns Jeongin squirms. Jeongin could barely focus on the game now that you were stimulating him.

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” his hand retracts from the keyboard and onto your hair helping you. “Keep going, please.. Don’t stop..” Jeongin’s gets all pouty and whiny as he is about to cum. You notice hips lifting off the computer chair and you pull yourself off him stopping him from his orgasm. He looks down at you confused, brows scrunched up, lips pursed together in a pout.

“I still want to keeping sucking you baby, you can’t cum yet.” Jeongin was in for a ride.

#becomingmina #skz smut #chan smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids smuts #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #skz request #skz headcanons

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shu-porang-porang · 3 months

Text

Love Me Until I Love Myself

♡♡♡ Minho wants to make sure you know he loves you ♡♡♡

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), reader is insecure and doesn't like herself

Word count: 3 k

You and your boyfriend are on the ride back home from an awards show after party. It was exhausting. You used to think they must be fun, getting to chat and party with celebrities, but nope. You’re not built for this. You wonder how he could do it, especially after performing those taxing choreos. You could never. All night he was so bubbly and cheerful, while you tried to hide in shadows and attract as little attention as possible. Well, it’s not like people cared about you anyway, you were an outsider, a peasant who was offered a chance at a royal ball.

Halfway through it you questioned why you even accepted to participate, and then right away, you remembered why. Another girl approached him, congratulating him on their win and talking about memories you weren’t a part of, laughing at inside jokes you couldn’t understand. Of course, he would be comfortable with these girls, they’re coworkers after all! He’s known some of them for ages, way before you guys met, and of course you had no right to tell him to stay away from them or anything. The best you could do was to stick around, so the girls were aware of you as his girlfriend, or he knew you were there, lest he decided to do something naughty with one of them...

You know you’re being unreasonable; you know he’s loyal, and they’re just friends, some of them are even like his little sisters, but you can’t get these thoughts out of your head. Your insecurities won’t let you. After all, those girls are famous idols, loved by millions, always so dolled up and pretty, acting cute and shit. You think it’s just a matter of time before Minho realizes the timid plain you ain’t good enough for a star like him. Although he always fondly smiles at your dorky made up dance moves, you think some performer who could actually dance and shared his passion for dancing would be more appealing to him. You feel you lack a lot, and you can’t justify why someone like him would be interested in someone like you.

You feel pathetic. You let out a sigh subconsciously and Minho gently puts a hand on your thigh, asking if you’re ok. You reply with a nod and a weak smile. You’re afraid if you try to talk, tears may spill. His hand remains on your thigh, so you hold it to calm yourself down. His soft hand that you love so much. You love everything about him, you’re crazy about him. You wish you didn’t love him so much, then he couldn’t one day break your heart. You wish you were another person, well, you wished that almost your entire life until you met him. Having him, convinced you that you were alright, the person who you were and hated for so long, was the same person who got you to him, so it was alright. But here you are again, doubting yourself. You think you’re just broken and can never be fully fixed. So maybe it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stick with you…

You arrive at Minho’s place. You moved in with him a few months back, so it’s technically your place too, but you don’t dare to indulge yourself in that idea, you think you don’t deserve it, you’ll lose it soon, so better to not get attached, but it’s already too late.

Home, at last. As soon as you enter, you are greeted by the cats. Minho picks one up cooing at it. You walk past by him into the bedroom. You just wanna rid yourself of the party attire and go to sleep, right now the only thing that could stop your train of horrible thoughts is sleep.

Minho joins you soon after, walks towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind as you’re taking your jewelry off in front of the mirror. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Hey let go, I’m tired. Just wanna get out of this dress and go to bed.”

“But I want you to stay in this dress a bit longer. You looked so pretty tonight, babe” he leaves kisses on your exposed shoulder that make your breath hitch in your throat. But you’re still upset about the bleak night you had.

“Oh, is that why you spent the whole time talking to other girls while I was sitting right there?” Your bottled up emotions force you to blurt out.

He lifts his head up, looking you in the eyes through the mirror. His expression is baffled, he’s trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“What are you talking about? I thought we had a nice time there!”

“Well, you obviously had, giggling with them all night.”

You try to break free from his arms but he won’t budge.

“Hey! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s exactly wrong.”

You try to form sentences that would explain why you’re feeling like this, but you feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place. You break into tears as you’re tired and helpless and don’t even know how to make sense of your feelings. Silent tears start streaming down your cheeks, you’re never one to sob loudly. Worries written all over his face.

“Baby tell me. What did I do? Did someone say something to you?”

You shake your head “no”. He lifts you up and carries you to bed, sitting you on his lap. You show no resistance, your hands are balled up on your lap and your head is down, trying to cover your crying face with the lose strands of your hair, which he tucks behind your ear immediately. His thumb is caressing your tear-stricken cheek. His other hand is soothingly massaging your thigh.

“It’s okay baby, you can talk to me. Please. It really hurts me to see you like this and not be able to do anything about it. Tell me what’s wrong sweetie. We’re gonna fix it together.”

You don’t wanna hurt him. Hurting him is the last thing you would do. So, you try to fight the tears and speak.

“I… seeing you tonight… the girls all pretty and talented… the things you have in common… how close you are… I wonder… how long… till you realize……….”

“Till I realize what baby?”

“I’m not… good enough” your voice is shaky, again on the verge of tears.

He’s in disbelief. His mouth slightly agape in shock. His grip on your waist tightens.

“Why would you even think that?” he says as if asking himself, not really waiting for a response from you.

His brows are furrowed. He’s thinking to himself.

“I get it now. You were sitting right there, and I kept talking to other people as if you weren’t. But I just thought you weren’t taking part in conversations coz you didn’t want to be bothered… but you actually felt excluded from them. Is that right?”

“Almost. That alone wasn’t a problem, but it made me think you deserve to be with someone who’s more like them and less like me…”

“Woah! Where did you get that from?”

“You’re too good for me… it can’t be right. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time with me…”

“Hey! You don’t get to decide that for me! Do you think I couldn’t have any of those girls if I wanted? The thing is, I don’t want them, I want you.”

“Why do you even love me? Even I can’t love myself…”

“Where should I begin? I love everything about you, and I make that my first priority from now on, to make you see all the things I love in you, and to make you love them too.” He finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your collarbone.

He plants a few more kisses on the expanse of your chest before pulling back and looking into your glossy eyes. You give him a thankful smile as your hands reach for his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His lips feel like heaven against yours, soft and plump. The kiss starts with languid movements of your mouths. Neither of you are in a hurry, you both need to savor this moment. He drags his tongue on your bottom lip and you let it in. As your tongues are dancing, the temperature rises. His hand that was on your waist, travels up to grope at your clothed breast, the other hand is tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place for him to abuse your lips.

He lays you on your back on the bed, momentarily disconnecting your lips which makes you whimper in loss. It encourages him to get back to kissing with even more fervor. His hands are pulling the straps of your dress down, trying to gain access to your breasts. He trails kisses down your jaw and across the column of your neck, to your shoulders and collarbone. They alternate between feather like pecks to purplish hickeys. He can’t decide what he wants. He wants it all, he wants all of you, he can’t get enough.

He stops to admire his work of art. A hand cups your cheek gently which you lean into, closing your eyes.

“You’re so perfect baby,” He plants a kiss to your forehead. “Even in my wildest imaginations I couldn’t picture someone this pretty,” Another kiss to your nose. “Inside and out.”

You open your eyes to see his lovingly stare back. You pull him in for another taste of his lips.

“So, do you still wanna get rid of this dress?”

“I do, if you want to.”

“As gorgeous as you look, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath.”

He takes it off and your left in nothing but your black lace panties. You tug at his dress shirt, signaling him to take it off too, which he complies, followed by the unbuckling of his belt and his pants follow suit.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I want you to never forget that.” He says as he hovers over you once again. You open your arms to invite him into your hug. He lowers his body onto yours, slightly circling his hips against your crotch. You feel him twitch in his boxers.

“We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood, you know.” He says searching your eyes.

“I want it baby, I need you, I really do.” You say as your hands are mapping his toned chest.

With a little smirk on his lips, he goes back to business. He kisses your chest, right above your racing heart, then latches his mouth to your left nipple. He sucks and bites at it till its raw, while trying to give the same amount of attention to the right one between his fingers. You squirm beneath him as your nipples get too sensitive and can’t handle more. He gets the cue and snaps out of his uncontrollable desire to ruin them. Instead, he gives them both kitten licks and pecks in turn, to compensate for the rough treatment they just received.

Moving down your naval, he’s all soft and sweet with butterfly kisses, loving pecks and whispering sweet nothings in between. He’s slotted between your thighs as he reaches your core. Eyes darting up to ask for your permission one last time before he’s completely unstoppable. You give him a nod and he places a kiss to your clothed mound. He teases by nudging his nose to your clit and licking a stripe from your hole to it. Tasting the arousal leaking through the fabric, he lets out a satisfied hum that sends shivers up your spine. You’re growing impatient but he’s taking his sweet time with peppering your inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. You feel more of your juices flowing out and you buck your hips up.

“Stay still princess. Let me take care of you, hm?”

“Minho… please…” You whine. You trust him that he’ll take good care of you, but you can’t wait anymore.

He finally gets rid of your panties and the cool air hits your pussy, followed by warm puffs of his breath.

“So pretty… all mine” He says before diving down and starting to make out with your pussy lips. The lewd noises that fill the room make you forget why you were even upset earlier. The only thing you don’t like about this moment is how little pressure he’s putting on your clit, enough to keep your juices flowing, but not enough to make them gush out all at once. You’re a moaning mess, your fingers pulling at his roots, trying to keep his face close to your core. He’s finally sucking at your clit, suddenly the pleasure gets overwhelming as he inserts two fingers inside you. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening to a snap. A few more strokes of his tongue and your coming undone. Your thighs shake around his head, one of his hands comes up to fondle your breast, his mouth still attached to your core, drinking the elixir of life straight from the fountain. He waits for you to ride your orgasm before he crawls back on top and gives you a taste of yourself. His mouth and chin are glistening with your juices. What a sight to see! You feel extremely lucky to be the one who caused this scene.

“That was …amazing… Thank you” you say while trying to find the normal rhythm of your breath.

“I told you I know how to take care of my girl.”

“Now it’s your turn.” You push him on his back and now you’re on top.

First thing you do is taking his boxers off and finally freeing his aching cock. You wonder how he managed to focus on pleasuring you while he was this hard. The sight alone makes you all turned on again. You thought you’d need more time to build a second orgasm, but you’re already throbbing.

Now it’s your turn to mark him, to shower him with kisses, to try and pour as much love as possible onto your every touch. Starting from the sensitive spot on his neck, you know you can’t mark him here, still you suck it a bit harsher than you should. You leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and where it is safe, give him a few hickeys too. You lovingly kiss the scar on his abdomen, the fact that it’s another thing that only a few have seen and you’re one of those few, is really endearing to you.

His member is twitching between your bodies. You slide your wet pussy on it, earning a groan from him. You decide he deserves a quicker release, so you stop grinding to hold it and align it with your entrance but he stops you.

“Wait baby. Let me do it.” He says as he’s stopping your hips from moving.

You’re confused but you go with it. He gets on top again.

“Tonight is about showing my baby how much I love her.” He says with a fond smile.

“I wanna make sure everything feels good for you.” He puts a pillow under your hips to gain a better angle. He inserts the two fingers from before in your pussy, checking how wet you are and scissoring them to loosen the muscles.

“Minnie I’m fine… it’s not my first time…” you try to say in between gasps as his fingers alone are doing wonders inside of you.

“Oh but it is sweetheart. I’m gonna love you all over again.” He inserts a third finger.

“Gonna make sure to give you all the love you deserve.”

He clashes his lips to yours as he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock. The stretch is pleasant, you want more of it. You moan in his mouth as he slowly inches inside you until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, your warmth engulfing him, turns his brains to mush.

He whispers in your ear: “I love you so much”

He starts moving as he nibs at your earlobe, giving you words of praise now and then. Your arms wrap impossibly tight around his shoulders, leaving no space between your chests.

He slowly picks up his pace. Your nails are digging to his biceps now. Beautiful moans fill the room. His lips won’t leave your skin for more than 3 seconds. He pats down your left arm till he reaches your hand and your fingers intertwine as if they have brains of their own. He pins it above your head and his other hand is beside your head, supporting his weight as his movements get faster and less precise.

“ ’m close…” you manage to let out.

“Go ahead… I’m right… behind you”

A few more thrusts and you’re second orgasm hits you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut, his name like a prayer on your lips. You’ve made a habit out of saying his name every time you came or it wouldn’t feel right.

As your walls convulse around him, he can’t hold it back anymore. Ropes of white hot liquid paint your walls. He collapses on top of you. He tries to pull out but you stop him.

“Wanna stay connected to you a bit more…” You wish you could merge with him into one person, but having him inside a bit longer, would do too.

His head finds its place in the crook of your neck. One of your hands is in his hair and the other is resting on his back. You whisper a “I love you” to his hair and kiss the top of his head and he lets out a sigh. You don’t want this moment to end. If he can love you this much, maybe you should give it a try too.

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jeondesu · 24 days

Text

ೀ⋆ 🍂 SKZ + WAYS THEY SHOW “ I LOVE YOU ” !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre: fluff warnings: not many… just some mentions of food & kissing <3

this is an old repost from my deleted blog !

방찬/BANG CHAN. chan is the most perfect boyfriend you could ask for. he’s the type to never let you lift a finger when he’s around you. whether it be fixing a broken pipe in the house or carrying all of the groceries; it wasn’t a problem for him at all. he may get consumed in his work sometimes but that didn’t mean he spends less quality time with you. he’d call you throughout the day to check up on you and tell you how much he misses you. he’d share what he was working on and update you on small things. always smothering you once he comes home— no seriously, he does not let you breathe. he’d pepper kisses all over your face whilst having you wrapped tightly in his arms. the warmth of his loving embrace made you feel the safest and utmost protected.

리노/LEE KNOW. lovesss taking you out on fun interactive dates. movies, bowling, mini golf, fruit-picking, and candlelit dinners were a just a few to name. minho enjoyed going to small family owned restaurants, he loved desserts and would order a milkshake with two straws on each side. you’d be playing footsie under the table like little kids, teasing you while staring into each others eyes trying not to burst out laughing. he loves you just as much as he loves his cats and that’s saying a whole lot. he has a picture of you playing with soonie and dori as his lock screen, it was probably the cutest pic he’s ever taken of you. he calls you and his cats a little family >\\< he loves the way they all get along with you and it affirms even more that you really are the one for him.

창빈/CHANGBIN. constantly showers you with dozens upon dozens of compliments. could write a full-fledged novel on simply everything he adores about you. he’ll write sweet notes from time to time and leave them in random areas for you to find. your relationship with him always kept you guessing, he was so full of pleasant surprises. he noticed the littlest details about you and could practically read you like a book. he knew immediately when you were in a slump, it became his personal mission to cheer you up. is super touchy feely with you but does it with the most pure intentions. pressing feathery kisses along your hands and the insides of your palms, then trails further up your arm. he loved seeing how flustered you’d get by it, only wanting to keep doing it more.

현진/HYUNJIN. treats you as his artistic muse. his deep infatuation with you fed his inspiration with new ideas constantly. his paintings were a reflection of his mind, his most inner thoughts and emotions. almost every painting he’s done was inspired by you in some way, shape, or form. art and photography are one his favorite hobbies so naturally he’s going to always wanna snap pictures of you. whenever you two go on dates he takes pics of you without you knowing, smiling to himself and thinking how lucky he is to have you. he tells you often how much you mean to him, he was a very vocal partner. you didn’t need to ask for reassurance because hyunjin would just give it to you anyway. it was like he could read your mind, he understood you on a intuitive and spiritual level.

한/HAN. he is completely and authentically himself when he’s with you. your relationship is the most easy going thing in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without you. he loves that your humor is the same and you’re both always goofing off. he feels most accomplished if he can make you laugh until your stomachs start hurting. almost everything was a joke to him but the love he had for you was definitely not. he share’s everything with you, his clothes, favorite snacks, deepest secrets, nothing off limits for him. never stops talking about you with the other members, every little thing reminds of him you so he has to announce it. he could be doing something serious and then one of your inside jokes would randomly pop in his head, smiling like an idiot to himself. he was so proud to have you as his lover and best friend.

필릭스/FELIX. the most sweet, nurturing, individual in the universe. put a million heart emojis next to your contact name and never fails each time to get a stomach full of butterflies every time he’s with you. hears a song that reminds him of you and instantly sends it; will make monthly playlists for you too. he gets lost in your eyes all the time, can’t help but feel his heart beat out his chest by your ethereal beauty. you could be having an in-depth conversation with him and he’d zone out from just looking at you. he can’t stand being away from you when he’s gone and gets real sad and lonely if he can’t hold you >.< will send you LENGTHY messages of what he loves most about you and how much he wants to be with you. if he can’t physically be there, he’ll do all he can to still feel like he’s right beside you.

승민/SEUNGMIN. thoughtful gestures were his love language. he would notice your shoe is untied as you’re both walking and stop everything he’s doing to fix it for you. will do anything you ask him to at the drop of a hat. does chores and tasks around the house when you aren’t feeling up to it, he never complains about it either which you love. lots and lots of hugs and kisses !! he especially loves hugging you from behind and resting his head within the crevice of your shoulder. he’d kiss your knuckle before dancing with you in the kitchen and acting like an old married couple. the two of you would be slow dancing and lock eyes, your lips would collide as you both sway to the melody of the song. it was soft moments like these that proved seungmin owned all of your love.

아이엔/JEONGIN. very much into showing PDA and lots of it. doesn’t really care about what the other members think when he touches or kisses you in front of them. likes to give you unexpected forehead and neck kisses, intertwining his fingers with yours while doing so. he bought you a necklace with his initial on it as a gift and you never took it off since the day he gave it to you. whenever he’s gone for long periods of times that necklace would get you through it all. he’d also buy matching couples pajamas and plan a night in where you do face masks and watch movies (^o^). late night cuddling was his forte; you’d be all tangled up in bed together and he’d leave short series of pecks to your cheek until you lull asleep in his arms.

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x gn reader #bang chan fluff #lee know fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #han jisung fluff #felix fluff #seungmin fluff #jeongin fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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sunboki · 13 days

Text

— THE ALCHEMIST. a Lee Minho fiction

Lee Minho x f. reader

TROPE. historical! au, set in 1940’s Korea, alchemist! au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. abusive behavior toward women, impoverished communities, overall sexist beliefs of the time, reader dresses as a man, mentions of death & disease, smoking (not reader or minho), war conflict, making out??

WORD COUNT. 9.6k words

AUG'S NOTES. although it was a bit out of the blue, i had such a great time writing and shaping this universe, thank you to all the love and support thus far<3 also, huge thanks to @comet-falls for instilling the peaky blinders/historical! minho vision in my head with how incredible tooth and claw was, i truly owe it to you :)

SYNOPSIS. Cities stricken with poverty, the lack of male presence in your home while surviving in a male-dominated society leaves meager food on the table and a piling debt. Left no choice but to make a risky decision, you decide that, if biology wanted to fail you, you’d simply try another approach.

alternatively :

In which deception introduces you into an entirely new reality, and The Alchemist.

It’s one thing surviving with the knowledge you can change something, whatever it may be that’s wrong.

It’s another when that problem isn’t merely changeable, but biological.

Your problem? You’re a woman.

Not as easy to fix, right?

With your father lost in the war, fruitlessly straining to support a family of girls, the household is left helpless.

Representation is nonexistent, and merely walking outside frets harassment and laughter struck in your face at the mention of working.

A woman, working? Hilarious.

Or, apparently to the men in pubs it certainly is.

Some things you can’t change, yes, but there are always alternatives. And as for now, you’re helplessly searching high and low for that alternative, whatever it may be.

Selling yourself is possible, though the inability to remain connected to your family eliminates that option.

When you get so desperate, there’s no incentive in guarding your pride. Because being called derogatory names isn’t as bad as losing them, the people you call home.

October welcomes little warmth, biting your fingertips and sending a tremor of chills cascading down your spine. Minimal sunlight peers through dense clouds, shrouding the atmosphere in a depressing haze.

You’re on your way to the apothecary, but not to purchase anything. The pennies in your pocket won’t amount to anything in the face of medicinal prices, which happens to be one of your many alternatives.

Since day one, you’ve had a rock to rely on.

Medicine.

Lack of money meant improper living conditions, entailing sickness.

Constantly.

Whether it was your mother, your younger sister, yourself, an infection of some sort occupied your respiratory system, wreaking havoc for wallets and mental health altogether.

Purchasing necessary medication became impossible the further you drowned in your debt, to the point drastic measures needed to be taken in order to prevent death from infesting itself in the household as well.

Then came the question. If you couldn’t purchase the medicine itself, why not collect the ingredients?

Alternatives.

Behind the apothecary you discovered mint hedges that, if mixed with wormwood and balm, could aid in curing Sun-ja’s current sickness, colic.

Although, you’d have to be swift in your efforts, ensuring the shop owner didn’t notice your presence.

Too many times had you nearly been caught, risking a good beating from the red-haired, burly man regarded as Mr. Myeong.

Fiery red hair complimented an equally unruly personality you aimed not to cross by. Ever.

Yet, unlike Mr. Myeong, his wife was the polar opposite, an ideal magnet. She was petite and soft-spoken, but out of her appealing traits, you found her resilience to be most attractive.

Mrs. Myeong is stubborn. She’s strong in what she believes, sporting an unquestionably vocal opinion that can’t be quenched.

The woman is, likely, the only woman capable of sealing her husband’s mouth shut.

Hidden between thorn ridden weeds sits your desired leaves, abundant in supply.

You clutch your satchel closer, plucking as quickly as possible whilst crouched to the ground, maneuvering through tickling grasses and itchy reeds.

Your mission remains successful, until the wretched sound of a doorknob rips your head upward, the red-haired man in question standing nonplussed, arms crossed.

He wears a cocked brow, examining what you’re desperately trying to veil away.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Stealing, are we?” Black boot clad frame thumping closer, you immediately prepare to run, hair standing on end like an agitated feline.

Instead, his huge hand swoops down to grab your collar, other evidently ready to land a harsh slap to your face.

Instinctively cringing, you brace for the stinging impact.

That is, before a saccharine, lullaby-worthy voice rings from the cracked doorway, belonging to none other than Mrs. Myeong.

“Honey! Have you seen the new envelope that came in?”

Heels clicking whilst padding over cobblestone to where you two stand, her husband fixates you with a stern, threatening glare.

Finally dropping your frame to the ground, you slump forward, pulse pounding loud enough you fear your chest may implode.

Mrs. Myeong, though wearing a taut expression, ushers him off, delivering a curt nod your way, intentional brows furrowed in place.

‘Thank you’ You wish to say, but hold your tongue, watching them disappear inside.

Another time.

Walking home was rather uneventful (much to your delight), left to enjoy the crisp, cool air sifting through your lungs in steady rhythm, the lazy billows of cigar smoke dwindling from gaping doorways.

Calm.

Nothing calm ever lasts long.

Stashing the house key back into your decrepit leather draw bag, your footsteps still upon entering, struck terror-filled.

Your mother, strawn across the floor, hacks amongst her rampant coughs, body convulsing in desperate shivers, skin drenched a ghastly blue.

Sprinting to her side, you kneel down, rolling the woman over to find her face utterly battered, new black eye beginning to swell, cheek bruised a mawkish purple against hollowed cheekbones.

Sharks.

To your left Sun-ja hides in the corner, rags for a blanket pulled to her chest, shielded between the wall and a tipped cabinet.

Over and over they’ve begun visiting, to the point your mother became recognizable by her continuous black eye, her torn clothing and stooped posture.

Exhausted, she was exhausted.

Yet, she took the beatings. The torturous punches. Jarring slaps, traumatic insults, tarnishing. Your mother took it so you wouldn’t, so you and Sun-ja could live.

And it’s at that moment you make up your mind, discover this occasion’s alternative.

“Cut it off.”

“Cut.. Cut it off?” Hyunjin gapes, fingers stalling their descent down a strand of your hair.

You smile, grimacing the longer consideration poises.

No point in thinking too much.

“Yep. Give me the most boy-ish haircut you can.” You emphasize, gesturing toward his scissors expectantly.

Hyunjin, your personally appointed hairstylist, doesn’t seem too convinced. He’s debating, expertly reading your features.

Currently, you’re holed up in his room, a miniature apartment located near the furthest section of town, close to the coast.

In wee hours of morning you boarded the train here, inhaling salty, ocean-smelling breeze. Back in your old residence you met him, your neighbor Hwang Hyunjin. It’s a miracle you still stayed in contact, bond aging like the finest of wines over countless years.

Enough to where you trusted him to help you enact this alternative of yours.

Starting with a haircut.

The man stares at you through the mirror, dark, inky hair matting the longer he runs his hands through it.

Thoughtfully trying to figure out your reasoning, he evidently catches on the moment you witness his eyes roll, releasing a heaving sigh.

“You cannot be serious.”

A torrential truth keeps you from responding, gaze directed at your feet.

“Y/n,” He uttered, eyes filling with a concern you avoid meeting, avoid regarding in a whole. “You don’t have to do this, the war is going to end soon and your father will come ba—“

“He’s dead.”

Silence engulfs the room.

Collecting yourself, you scorn his frown.

“He’s dead and gone. Now I need to protect them, provide for them.“

You deny the shakiness of your voice.

“So, Hyunjin. Cut off my hair.”

Accordingly, he does without another word. Snip by snip, tress by tress falling below, scattering the tile floor in endless strands.

By the time you see yourself, it’s hard to recognize the person in the reflection. Never had you considered your hair a viable source of identity, but now that it’s so sparse, the effect is eminent.

Failing to see yourself in your own reflection beckons a different kind of sadness. For the person you’ve introduced yourself as reigns no more. She’s been replaced.

Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, embrace just as comforting as you remembered. His hand reaches to caress your cropped hair, rocking back and forth on his heels, chin resting on your head.

“Be careful, okay?”

Nodding into his shoulder, you wipe salty streaks from your cheeks.

Hurts.

“And if you need a place to take shelter, I’ll be here.”

Steadying in his hug again, you pull back, cherishing his kindness with a chaste kiss to the cheek.

“Thank you, really.”

Shaking his head at your gratitude, urging you out and lingering by the doorway till your figure retreats in the distance.

Next stop, Mrs. Myeong.

If anyone has any idea how to source the clothing you’re needing, your best chance would be thanks to her.

An hour later you arrive in familiar avenues, creeping out of sight into the apothecary in hopes the woman you’re looking for is working the counter.

Much to your pleasure, after a few unsuccessful attempts do you grasp her attention, edging forward under the guise of a regular hoping to converse.

“I need your help.”

Initially, she carries that sternness, wordlessly lifting your hooded head a bit to notice the latest adjustment. Shock written over her face, Mrs. Myeong drags you along with her, closing the door to a back room.

“My child, what is going on?” She whispers, tone urgent. You can’t help but feel fond of the affectionate nickname.

“I need male clothing and,” You hesitate, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “something to bind my chest with.”

Similar to Hyunjin, she steps back, assessing the situation at hand. Spending a brief few seconds roaming your figure, the woman works hastily toward fetching a petticoat, meticulously fitting each article atop your stock-still frame.

“You’re conceited,” she grumbles. “And foolish.” Carefully peeling off your upper-wear, she’s managed to cut a piece of thick cloth to use as a make-shift binder, assembling the fabric over your breast.

The experience, although strange, wasn’t as painful as anticipated.

“But be careful, and stay in contact.”

Your response is hushed.

“Breathe in,” The older woman instructs, securing her creation with a threaded pin before moving onto other aspects, like a proper coat and pants.

Mr. Myeong’s trousers, though having to be sewn to fit, make do, and you’re reminded to return tomorrow for shoes. Otherwise, the attire is completed, paired with a curved hat to finish.

Sure, the entire male concept is foreign, but given time, you’ll gradually acclimate.

Oh, right.

Your alternative?

Since medicine is what you know, you’ll stick with that. Difference being medicine is a men’s occupation, and so, if you can’t be a female working in the field, why not become male?

Well, somewhat become male.

It’s a risky wager, easily placing your life on the line in the process.

For your mother and Sun-ja, however, it’s your turn to take the beating. Your turn to endure.

Observation is a virtue. It can save and preserve, heed to oncoming danger, and simultaneously (and discreetly) supply useful information.

Today, seated on a bench in Daegu Station, your first observation is the abundance of people scurrying like mice.

Some tall, some short. Distinct moles, eyes. Upturned and downturned lips. Mustaches, beards. Much to see.

Your legs cross and uncross, Mr. Myeong’s oversized heeled shoes beginning to sink at your ankles. Hat strung low enough to peer out without attracting attention, your gaze is magnetically drawn to a magazine held on the adjacent side of the train tracks, title on display.

Prized Alchemist Lee Minho suspected of being the lone survivor of the Red Plagu—

Ignorant to your surroundings, your senses posed numb to the incoming train, blocking off the last few words of the title from view the moment it soars past—nearly sweeping the fedora off your head.

By the time the last few train cars passed, the man honing said magazine had disappeared, and you were left wondering if the experience was merely a figment of your imagination.

Although, you did have one lead. A name.

Lee Minho.

Where you’d find him remained unknown, deciding to rely on a magazine parlor first and foremost for more intel.

To no surprise, nearly every magazine rack lay lined with haughty opinions regarding the war and its evident cruelty.

Many onlookers of both Americans, Koreans, and foreigners alike chatter amongst themselves about their own take between gossiping hands and fumes of tobacco.

In this town, located far off in the business district by a ship port, people are everywhere.

Wives of sailors, families of soldiers off at war. Women honing gleaning parasols and ivory gloves reaching to their elbows.

Languages you’ve never heard before utter their enunciated syllables, vocabulary petulant with accent—all shrouded in dismay.

Roaming the store endlessly to no avail, you prepare to adventure back through dusty streets and battered wooden stall-shops before a peculiar name pauses your footsteps.

His name, The Alchemist, Lee Minho.

“Bring ‘em home I tell ‘ya,” An aged man by the deepened grooves of his face, hollow cheekbones and bunched wrinkles grumbles.

A fat cigar hangs loosely from thin lips, pale baker boy cap adorning a bald head.

Some sentences estranged, you identify his sentences as French, heavy in dialect, throaty and broad.

And although your fluency stay patchy, exposure from French immigrants who’ve relocated near home allow minimal understanding as to what they’re talking about.

“Say, did you hear that Lee Minho chap was a Red Plague?” His counterpart offered past his own leering cigar, foot tapping incessantly.

The other hacks his bewilderment, feeble fist pounding on an equally feeble chest.

“The Alchemist?”

The man’s astonishment returned with a nod, you lean closer, pretending to be consumed in an article.

“Said he was only nineteen when it happened. Shipped ‘em off only for disease to kill them all. One survived, now people are speculatin’ it’s him.”

Either of them sigh out long drags.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Is all the other huffs in disbelief, and upon recognizing the conversation approaching an end, you stir to action, willing your voice to deepen an octave.

Attempting to appeal in your broken French, you stall the two, cautiously claiming you’re in need of his whereabouts for an esteemed business transaction to which, through confused stares, you’re given loose directions.

Loose, but feasible.

80 Kent Avenue, dark blue doors.

Directions that, according to the sudden blank of streetlights, would have to wait until tomorrow. As for now, the world beckoned you to rest, and any progress would prove futile and rather impossible in the dark.

Luckily, a run-down Inn gifted good few hours of shut-eye before dawn peered through the windowsills and you were begrudgingly forced to your feet.

Fitting the binder snug across your body and fastening your trench coat through minuscule belt loops, you’re taught with much haste the stark difference of men’s prestige entitlement.

First access to everything, the ability to have their way with a woman whether she willingly obliges or not, and just about ten billion other things someone of your hidden status couldn’t fathom.

A man’s world is a world only possible through disguise. Yours just happens to be a last resort.

Charming the mistress at the front desk was unexpectedly effortless, not to mention how easily she spilled the details as to where Kent Avenue would be located.

Another noticeable attribute of your new appearance, no one asked as to where you were going nor your intentions, they merely dipped their heads and wished you off.

Adjustments.

Adjustments that, if you’d been born different, would be normal.

Kent Avenue lay twisted in shadows. The surrounding area brims in barely flickering labels and creaking doorways leading to who knows where. Quaint isn’t the word for it. More ancient, all-knowing.

This place has been here for centuries with many stories to tell, most just haven’t heard them yet.

Significantly dark blue doors make the Alchemist’s residence easily noticeable, starkly contrasting with wooded architecture. Massive doorknobs engraved with lions, windows shielded by moth-eaten curtains. Grand, in its own form.

You swore each door stood eight feet tall, the left in particular left slightly ajar.

Wait, ajar?

Doing a double take to ensure your vision wasn’t playing tricks on you, you inch forward, widening the dark gap exponentially until all you faced was a black abyss—apart from the miniature lamp beaming yellow light in a far corner.

Carefully tiptoeing into said black abyss, the further you explore, the greater the visibility increases. Leather cushioned furniture, clean, polished desks. The desk the lone lamp rests upon is a chestnut wooden, ink feathers residing in the upper corner.

Somehow, the matter grants envy, resentment grating your nerves. This man lives comfortably while other’s are beaten for possessing nothing. Maybe it’s a petty, unnecessary thought; and maybe you’re foolish, but all odds are against you, your disposition seems righteous.

Getting too lost in your head turned out foolish as well.

“What’s this?” A voice behind you whispers, voice ghosting chills tickling your neck at an alarming pace.

Whipping around, eyes struck wide in shock, the person responsible for the remark comes into view, his stature opposing the tone muttered in your ear seconds ago.

Not a plump business man like you imagined, not adorning a spectacle, no pipe in sight. Instead, one lone button right below the chest fits snug white sleeves cuffed by his elbows, black vest hugging a slim torso.

Conniving, cat-like eyes analyze your expressions while dark brown hair parts to the side, loose strands covering his right eyebrow. And when he reaches up to brush a few frayed tresses to the side you note sleek gloves covering long, pale fingers.

If anything, this man is more similar to a Vampire.

“Trespassing, are we?”

Collect yourself. This is your opportunity.

Swiftly brushing off your clothes, you clear your throat.

“I have an offer.”

“An offer?” A smile belonging to that of a Cheshire cat adorns his lips, one leg propping itself over the other, fingers intertwining in front of him.

Ensuring your voice is clear and concise (while keeping the deeper, male-ish tone), you state your claim, despising how utterly debilitating it feels being caught under his observative stare.

Like he sees through you.

“I would be a valuable asset to your studies in alchemy. I know about herbs and their uses better than anyone else, and where they’re located.”

Sure, the bargain might’ve sounded arrogant, but you were technically cosplaying as a man when most men of your time couldn’t shut up about themselves, arrogance was the least of your problems.

Gnawing at his cheek as you spoke, he pauses a moment, then laughs.

Amused.

Dark lashes dust above equally dark eyes, nearly black as they study you.

“You want to be my apprentice? Is that it?”

You remain close-lipped.

“I’ll tell you one thing, kid. This world is all about money,” He raises a cane from where he reclined, using the end to tip your chin up and meet his eyes.

“No?”

To which you simply stare back at him, refusing to avert eye-contact.

“I’m sure that’s what you’re here for anyways.” Rising from his place, he sighs heartily. “But see, I’m a greedy man, not a good man.”

Abruptly, his countenance falls flat.

“And my job isn’t fun, so you’re out of luck.”

Immediately, you’re frantic, trying your hardest to ignore his obvious statement to leave. The last thing you need is to run out of luck, run out of options.

And so, you hastily wrack your mind for a solution, an excuse, whatever keeps you in this dimly lit room.

“You- You were part of the Red Plague, weren’t you?” Spitting out words from the depths of your racing mind, The Alchemist stops, fixing you with an unreadable look.

Red Plague as in, the group of young men enlisted during the war that all died of a deadly disease but one. One who, many speculate is the man before you.

Breathe in.

“I may not know much about you, but I know what it’s like to want to save somebody.”

Breathe out.

Now it was his turn to stand there, and for a second you swore you saw a flash of sympathy cross his face.

You wet your lips. “I’ll run your errands and wash your clothing, I’ll clean this place spotless. Plus, it’s not like I’m a woman asking for a job, so please, give me a chance.”

Slowly, The Alchemist raises a brow, laugh disbelieving.

“Since when did being a woman have anything to do with this?”

Huh?

How.. odd.

If anything, the majority would wholeheartedly agree, likely hiring you on the spot with how impalpable such a jest seemed.

He would’ve laughed, maybe slapped your back. Would’ve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, proclaimed you his friend.

Yet, you almost feel flattered. Flattered in a strange, unrealistic manner.

Basking in a deplorable quietness, The Alchemist sighs, combing a gloved hand through silken strands.

“I have a spare room around that corner.” He points, leather gloves narrowly highlighted by orange lighting. “Make yourself useful, hm?”

And like that, even if it was a long shot, you landed it. More specifically, landed a job.

How preposterous.

How exciting.

Yet, it began hesitantly. As if he was initially testing your usefulness. Sending you on runs to the nearby gardens, having you make sure a concoction didn’t derange itself while he fetched better flasks. Easy things.

However, you didn’t complain. A boring job was better than no job, and as long as a few coins were emptied into your pocket afterward, you’d continue to work without whining.

Burdock, oregano. Motherwort that would erupt billows of chemically-infused air when added to oils or sugars.

Then you noticed The Alchemist. His quirks, his characteristics.

He shifts between a long trench coat or tight vests, his hair is always styled a certain way, though some days, when he just wakes up, he has this tiny bird nest of hair atop his head, it’s charming.

He yawns a lot.

He wears heeled shoes, maybe from his shorter height, maybe preference.

And rather peculiarly, the longer you stay in his lair, the greater you notice the many scars littering his forearms, collarbones. Miniature cuts and imprints left on porcelain skin.

Those observations, conjoined with his reactions, make for a truly interesting character.

Reactions being his dislike toward loud noises, the matter in which his shoulders scrunch at a loud clap outside, eyes blown wide, fearful.

The longer you stay in his lair, the more you notice him, nonetheless his fears. Whether suspicion clarifies anything in specific, there’s no denying he’s a man of war.

Lee Minho has secrets, and as badly as your nosiness itches to uncover them, you, as you had promised earlier, will keep your lips sealed.

And it makes you wonder, what’s life like on your side of the street? What throng of unfairness left you awash, left you both suffering?

You wonder about your oppositions and similarities in different points of each other’s lives. Minutes, decades before you ever met.

Certain stones shall stay unturned, but you hope, maybe one day, those questions will be answered.

Interestingly enough, he never asked about your name; not even when you gingerly introduced yourself as your last name, a rather awkward fit.

Likewise, you don’t complain. There’s only two of you in the house after all.

A week in, you’re finally introduced to something new.

The Alchemist plans to have you tag along with him to Port Nova, a docking station located on the outskirts of Busan.

Business thrives in ship ports, the sole source of connectivity for a growing country like Korea. Each day, millions of shipments come in from countries you can’t name, so you’re not surprised in the slightest he’s headed there for a transaction.

You are surprised he decided to have you tag along.

Even more so that, as you hop off the transit, hurriedly tailing his left, he veers off a sharp turn, approaching a worn Burlesque Club, glittering sign halfway dangling from its perch on a scarlet red awning.

English letters spell out Nova Burlesque, a few missing letters left astray to the side, electrical bulbs spasming with sporadic lighting on the dusty ground below.

In the daylight, the place appears ordinary, blending in with its crumbling, desolate surroundings.

Although, you have no doubt this place utterly delights in the eve, pink-neon inviting enough to lure unaware foreigners upon first arrival.

“Mr. Lee,” You utter, returned with a short scoff from the man who insisted you refer to him by his name, Minho.

“Where are we going?”

It’s hesitant, unsure of whether to intervene, but Minho only smirks, whispering a not-very-assuring “You’ll see” you begrudgingly go along with.

Inside is the last of what you anticipated.

Oh dear.

You’ve only been to minimal Burlesque Clubs, but the ornery perspective of faux jewelry, a glittery, hallucinatory stage, and the constant rendition of Why Don’t You Do Right whirling on scratchy records isn’t present here.

Alternatively, there’s stools scattered around a marginally illuminated clearing, some upturned, others occupied by burly men with equally burly beards.

And in the middle, a boxing ring is situated. The stench of sweat and blood soaks the air in a metallic, pungent aroma.

A brisk realization crosses your mind, a conclusion of a sort.

Play a fool’s game, earn a fool’s reward.

Only you, Hyunjin, and Ms. Myeong know the lengths you’re willing to go to secure your family's well-being, and now, at odds you can’t compromise, you have to do everything in your power to maintain your act.

This is a test.

Sifting behind you, he murmurs a hushed: “Cover your ears.” That you begrudgingly oblige to, cupping either hand over your ears as Minho clutches his leather holster, concealed within the confines of a frequently worn coat.

In a split second, a gunshot is fired to the ceiling, the bullet's shell casing dropping atop the welt of his pointed shoe.

Stunned silence ensues.

Arm still extending the revolver in the air, you haphazardly remove your hands, dragging the hat further over your face as more eyes focus on the both of you.

“I’m looking for Reiner and Manfred.”

The longer the tension rises, the further you grow self conscious.

“Already?” A man bellows from inside the ring, breaking the awestruck spell whilst gripping his opponent by the collar, fist poised and ready to strike.

Unusually, they seem to know each other.

Minho merely exhales a loud sigh through his nose, practically two times smaller than his apparent acquaintance.

Said acquaintances grumbles.

“Leave it to our champion to interrupt the show.”

And with that, he hooks the contender in the jaw, sending him pummeling down to the tarnished mat where hoards either cheer or groan, hustling money left and right over the victor.

Champion of the show? You’re adding that to your collection of never ending questions that’ll likely stay unanswered.

From the crowd arises two men. The victor from the ring and another from the crowd, dressed lavishly opposed to his white tank top-wearing counterpart.

Reiner and Manfred, you assume.

Serving as a mere shadow in The Alchemist’s wake, the four of you hustle outside, met with a nonplussed Minho and two, mildly confused (and enormously tall) men.

Foreigners, certainly.

“..Care to introduce the pipsqueak?” Reiner presumably more talkative, piques, beady eyes scouring your figure enough to where you scorn the beads of sweat collecting upon your temple.

Pipsqueak my foot.

You stave down the retort, inhabiting Minho’s shadow as the three discuss matters of a hospital transaction. Almost like you weren’t there at all, as it’s always been.

If it weren’t for the technicalities, you would’ve interjected, made your presence known. Except, other than herbal instances, you’re a novice in the business department. You’ll leave that up to your current mentor to arrange.

Again, lips sealed.

Minho, ignorant to the previous victor’s question, continues to sign legal documents supplied by the calmer individual, Manfred. You internally thank the gesture.

Well, before Reiner’s sordid gaze becomes too stifling to brush off.

“I’m Mr. Lee’s apprentice, L/N. Nice to meet you,” You initiate, fearlessly reaching out a hand he heartily shakes, features graced with amusement, massive hand practically engulfing yours.

Pardoning a gruff “Likewise”, he nearly sends you flying from the timbre of his voice alone.

“Say,” Reiner mutters, finally completing the last of the package transfers. “Don’t you think this one seems a bit feminine?”

Your jaw ticks, nervousness shrouding your being like an unrelenting fog. Minho’s fingers close around your elbow, pulling you closer, brows knit.

“Perhaps you need your eyes checked, Reiner,” He offers, tone nonchalant opposed to the vice-like grip latched to your arm.

Heftily chortling, the man only pats your back, causing your entire body to surge forward upon impact.

“Well regardless, it’s a cute little thing ain’t it?”

Manfred simply grunts his acknowledgment while you bite your tongue, coveting your retaliation when he referred to you as “it”.

No use growing angered. The feeling is futile.

Luckily, your irritable arrangement comes to a hasty close, more than gleeful to have an understandably annoyed Minho steer you from Port Nova onto a short train back to Kent Avenue, to your newly established home.

A home, but not really a home. Semi-permanent, unofficial.

Either way, you wouldn’t complain. Despite the constant efforts in diminishing your past identity, you didn’t feel as conscious when around Minho.

Safer.

As if, in an alternative reality, you could tell him. Your truths, your burdens.

No. You won’t jeopardize this opportunity. You can’t.

At least, not yet.

“I’ll be back Mr. Lee!” You shout, wielding a briefcase bag to your person, nudging the ghoulish door open using your hip.

As usual, you’re headed off on a restocking trip.

Except on this occasion, the restocking consists of hunting down a peculiar herb: Chinese Chrysanthemum. It’s an appealing plant with fluorescent leaves and a constant need for sunlight.

It’s no surprise he’s sent you to fetch such goods. After two months, you soared in and out of the residence routinely, scouring Korea while Minho hunched over a wildly diverse array of vials and flasks, glasses propped on his slightly hooked nose, hands firmly resting on a wooden exam table.

Studious. He is very studious.

However, a catch diverts itself from eye view. A catch you hadn’t considered until your two feet stepped from squealing train tracks.

Somehow, although unusually intentional, you wound up in a rather peculiar area. An area you never imagined paying a visit to in your wildest dreams.

In the midst of economic outrage and warring circumstances, you’re standing in one of Korea’s most unstable, informal districts. A place that, according to your overhearing ear, was where your precious Chrysanthemum lodged.

This district had an infamous name.

The Den.

A fitting name in actuality, where a person didn’t realize they were stuck till it was too late, unable to see where they’re going, living in belief there’s an incentive to the finish line in a race run in circles.

Also, a place the Sharks who torment your family report to.

You can hear your heart thrumming in your ears, nearly ricocheting out of your chest with its horrid cacophony.

Calm down.

Calm down. Think of the goal.

All you have to do is find a flower.

Grounding yourself, you pinpoint some viable resources.

Fertile soil, maybe even sandy, likely in the inner portion of The Den.

Plus, you’re dressed as a man, you might as well act outrageously boisterous.

But you’re not, you’re afraid. Perhaps not external, but inside, your lungs feel as if they’re being violently crushed, sinking deeper in an unsteady submersible to the very bottom of the ocean. And for a second, you truly contemplate going back, telling Minho you’re incapable of the task.

Yet, what would you say? You’re haunted by a vision that hasn’t happened? Fearful for a future event with no guarantee? If you had ever done something so horrid, they would’ve found you ages ago.

This time, you’re in their domain, invading what’s theirs as they’ve done to you.

Greater. You aren’t who you used to be, in more ways than one.

Genuinely, what is there to lose?

That’s it. You’ll complete the mission and return. No run-ins, no fear barricading your job.

In and out.

Initially, you scout out your surroundings, regarding the faint sound of voices funneling in the distance, the smell of mixtures you hate being able to identify, far off machinery croaking before smoke spurs from rusted screws and bolts.

Amongst the chatter of street vendors and the many, notorious gang members patrolling in and out of abandoned shops, you roam avidly, keeping as low a profile as possible.

Number one priority is to not be noticed. Drawing attention to yourself is a one way ticket to failure, and the last thing you need is to arrive back to Minho empty-handed.

However, through the blinding clouds of smoke billowing from exhaust pipes, a specific building, shrouded in the shadows of charcoal residue, douses your peripheral.

A Greenhouse.

Bingo.

Quickly looking around, you shrink low to the ground, racing forward to carefully creak open glass double doors and slip inside.

It feels as if you’re enclosed in a furnace. Mere seconds in and sweat already begins gathering upon your temples.

Though that becomes the least of your concerns after assessing what lies inside.

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of flowers and herbs. Rare species, some critically endangered, just sitting here.

It’s strange.

Why would, in the case such an abundance existed, not be used? Why hadn’t this Greenhouse been raptured from the inside out for such valuable items?

It’s not until a commotion stirs ahead of you that you understand the answer to the question.

With about five plucked Chinese Chrysanthemums expertly sealed into their coordinating bags, a piercing hiss followed by multiple shouts and hollers cause you to shrink back, gazing around haphazardly.

A hiss?

From your perspective nearly kissing the dirt, your vision allows a minuscule glimpse of multiple backs turned, boisterously amused men gathering around something in the front of the Greenhouse.

You feel the need to know more.

Inching forward tip-toe by tip-toe, amidst the roaring crowd, you spare a look between the sea of legs to find an utterly deplorable sight.

A cat.

No, not just a cat, cat fighting. They’re watching cats maul each other for the fun of it. As if they aren’t living creatures, but toys for their entertainment.

And perhaps it’s a foolish decision, perhaps laughable being worried, being angered, but you are and you refuse to leave knowing you could’ve done something to help them.

Hastily scouring the floors, a can of Spam discarded below Foxglove stems proves useful enough, tossing it as far as possible where it whacks against the glass wall, immediately averting their attention.

This is your chance.

As dark clouds and incoming rain thunder outside, you don’t waste the opportunity, sprinting forward while the men make toward the direction of the sound and hoisting the first cat you see into your arms.

Sprinting past narrow pathways and dimly lit streets, you force your eardrums numb to the threats they call after you, mind trained on one thing besides getting as far as possible from here.

To Minho to Minho to Minho.

A hand grabbing your shoulder causes you to shriek, swiftly dragged off where you swear your last breaths will be taken, the feline in your arms scrambling with panic.

“What are you doing?” Your captor furiously whispers, hidden in the low lighting of an apparent alleyway.

Wait. You recognize that voice.

“Hyunjin?”

How does he recognize you?

Just then does a breeze swipe past your head, sending chills trickling down your rain-soaked neck.

Your hat is gone. Must’ve fell off while you were running.

“Wh.. what are you doing?” Slipping from his grasp after the men’s hushed conversation becomes inaudible, you regard the man with an incredulous stare.

“Answer my question first,” He reprimands, and as the cat resounds a pained meow do you assess the dire nature of the situation.

You need to get this cat to Minho, and fast.

“Can’t- Can’t talk right now I’ve got to go—“

“Wait!”

Though, as your footsteps breach the security of the alley, the placating cry of crows mock your left, hurried footsteps belonging to those occupying the Greenhouse heading toward you in rampant haste.

Hyunjin’s hand holding your wrist, you grace a tight-lipped smile his way.

“Let’s not see each other like this again, okay?”

He returns a miniature grin, teeming with mischief.

“Agreed.”

Upon letting go, you race off, attempting to speedily navigate back to the train station whilst torrents of streaming droplets cascade down your face.

“Good luck!”

“Thanks, I’ll need it!” You respond back, voice permeated against the rain, eyes frantically searching for a place to evade.

Finally, a crowd appears, swarming amongst diners and flickering street lights.

Your perfect hideaway.

Swimming through the hive of people, you catapult yourself into the nearest phone booth in sight, fumbling through deep pockets before cashing a coin into the metal slot and jarring your index over slippery metal numbers.

Praying the combination is correct as you hold the wired telephone to your ear, you’re consumed with utmost relief upon hearing The Alchemist’s voice answer on the other side of the crackling line.

Amidst roaring rainfall drowning the booth, you differentiate shouting a ways off, likely belonging to the men from earlier.

“Mr- Mr. Lee?”

“Yes? Where are you?”

“Are you.. Are you allergic to cats?”

Never in your life did you think you would be so overjoyed seeing blue doors.

Clambering inside—the rather upset cat in your arms hissing their dismay—you’re overwhelmed with an unexplainable happiness seeing Minho’s face peer from the guest room.

Relief.

“L/N wha..”

Words dying in his throat as he gives you a speechless once over, your urge to hug him dissipates instantly, beckoning a new set of garments upon realizing how utterly drenched your precious disguise is.

Simultaneously shoving the cat his way before rushing to your room, you thankfully strip of your fretfully cold attire, welcomed in the comforting embrace of clean clothing.

A mere five minutes later you exit, greeted by Minho’s stockstill frame. Hand half-raised, evidently about to knock.

You forcefully clear your throat, praying the momentary awkward tension is alleviated.

Luckily, The Alchemist takes it upon himself to break the spell, eyes dancing across the floorboards in order to avoid your own.

“Well, she’s stable. Her vitals are fine, nothing too critical apart from a few cuts here and there. Just shaken up.”

Your stare of astonishment earns a confused tip of his head.

“That fast?”

Said (apparently female) cat rubbing her body along your calf with an obviously delighted purr, you appear nearly concussed, crouching down to pat the soft, striped fur lining her back.

Minho snorts.

“What can I say, I get work done.”

Maybe he is a vampire after all.

Mirroring your crouch, he watches your interaction, similarly feline-like inspection unnoticed till glancing up.

And for a swift moment, you swear he saw through you. Lips parted, eyes scrutinizing. Piecing together the building blocks to a wavering structure you’d strived so hard to build, to protect.

No. You’re overthinking. He couldn’t possibly know.

You failed to notice the forlorn look on his face, one that ushers to ask if you’re okay, fetch a hot beverage to warm your evidently cold hands.

“Might I ask how you ended up bringing this one home?”

Leave it to him to take the title as your greatest ally and worst enemy at the same time.

Ah. Right.

“Y’know I was about to get to that-”

You pause, deriding the high pitch of your voice into something more appropriate. He cocks a brow.

“As I was saying, it wasn’t my intention to bring her back, but the place she was trapped at, the place with the men- the plants..”

According to his expression, you’ve grown two heads.

…

“Go on.”

“Look, the place I found the Chrysanthemum was having cat fights. Do you remember hearing about the dog fights in Gangwon? It’s the same thing. We can’t just sit still while they’re torturing innocent animals.”

“I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m an Alchemist, not a hero,” He sighs, and your hand stalls its petting, face falling while the cat in your lap flicks her tail back and forth expectantly.

He has a point. You got yourself into this, you went into the Greenhouse. It’s not his duty to clean up after your messes, but perhaps you can convince him, even by a small margin.

Play a fools game, earn a fools reward.

You’ll mop the floor of your own mess.

“Minho, please. Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?”

Stifling silence making an additional appearance, you nervously await the verdict, perched rather hilariously outside of your bedroom door.

Chewing the skin of his cheek, he scolds himself for falling so susceptible to you, though you won’t ever know that.

“Fine, but you’d better have a plan.”

Ah. Great.

You don’t.

At dawn’s arrival you’re swept upward, fixing a hasty bout of tea and toast prior to dressing in the privacy of your appreciated quarters.

You don a much-needed hat, hopping aboard the first train of the day with a well-dressed Minho in tow.

Retracing your steps turns out easier than you anticipated, The Alchemist tailing you as you had done him at Port Nova.

Though, just when the task seemed a cake walk, you manage a meager detour, regarding your unimpressed mentor.

“From what I can remember, it’s around here somewhere. But I might be wrong, I stumbled upon it by accident and it looks a bit scary but I think—“

“Stop! Stop- Stop talking. Please.”

You quickly shut your mouth, allowing the man to lead instead till the sight of familiar landmarks becomes a gradual reassurance of your location.

Perhaps now it’s safe to talk.

“Mr. Lee, what did Reiner mean by calling you a champion-“

Shoved against the brick wall, your sentence dies instantly, panickedly glancing in all directions assessing the all too familiar pistol Minho‘s drawn, conspicuous in close proximity.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He enunciates, tone unusually gruff whilst scanning your surroundings.

Your face warms an involuntary pink you clamber to ward off, drawn to the sight of his tense jaw and the feather-like arrangement of long lashes, focused on something elsewhere.

Your retort dies not only from his beauty, but upon the familiar Greenhouse coming into view.

“Looks like we found where your little friends are playing.”

Though, as the man begins forward, you grab him by the sleeve.

“Wait! We can’t just waltz in.”

His hand, slipping from the warmth of his pocket, cups your chin, unbearably close to your face to the point you can feel his breath on your nose.

Curse the butterflies.

“Well there’s no need for an introduction, so let’s listen this time, shall we?”

Left at a loss for words either from your slack mouth or the concerning amount of sweat building upon your palms, you don’t argue back, lingering right outside the door, craning to hear voices.

By the sound of it, at least four people are inside at the moment, and the longer you stay out here, the more ample time becomes for additional threats to show up.

As if reading your mind, he slips through the rugged door, gesturing for you to follow while silently navigating through dense, humid underbrush and overgrown foliage.

However, your quiet voyage is quelled when a twig, unbeknownst to the two of you, cracks under the pressure of his foot.

“Shit,” He mutters, cringing back at the immediate quietness that ensued.

The Alchemist curses as well.

Interesting.

Amidst the men bearing closer, Minho turns to you, tone urgent.

“When I get up, you run and free the cats. Don’t look back, just go.”

Nodding hastily, you reacquaint yourself with the area, ensuring a dead set beeline to where the cats were held without interruptions.

Minho, a split second before you can ask a question, whips the gun from his coat pocket, the sound of bullets whipping through the air enough indication it’s time you go.

Finnicking hands make it hard to unscrew the wired cages, surges of adrenaline helping speed up the rescue as you double check every feline has escaped.

Heeding to instruction, you don’t look for The Alchemist, solely driven to freeing the cats and fleeing the scene. No more problems.

Almost an exact replica to your last visit here, a hand drags you off right as you exit the Greenhouse doors, back pressed against his (whom you realized was Minho, not Hyunjin, thanks to the leather gloves) front.

And perhaps from running, perhaps from something else, you can feel his heartbeat, oscillating in a nonstop orchestra that sends your own heart pounding from the confines of your rib cage.

Stifling a shaky inhale you’d held in as the last of the perpetrators scattered elsewhere, you instantly step back, denying every urge to coddle him like a child, fretfully check him for injury.

A certain fondness lay reserved for Lee Minho, a fondness you can’t discern of at the moment.

“C’mon, quick, Soonie might get scared if we’re gone for too long,” He ushers, crashing your tunneling train of thought right off its rails in the process.

“Yeah-“

You stop.

“Soonie?”

“Yeah, Soonie.”

“You named her?”

“..Yes.”

It’s a genuine struggle hiding your laugh.

“I didn’t find you the type to take in cats.”

“Today you’ve been proven wrong, apparently.”

A sort of giddiness you never experienced fills your chest, wishing nothing more than to look back at the man and swoon.

How could you not? He was very much dexterous, and attractive without a doubt, that much was known to anyone who laid eyes on The Alchemist.

Your trek home proved relatively easy, able to skillfully get to the station away from prying eyes and trod along a mixture of gravel and dusty roads without issue.

Silently celebrating your success, you nudge your counterpart's hip, the unimpressed side-eye he grants doing little to dull your happiness.

“Aren’t you an Alchemist? How come you’re oddly good with a gun?”

He clicks his tongue.

“Aren’t you my apprentice? How come you’re getting yourself into trouble when your only instruction was to fetch herbs?”

You conceal a smile he obviously catches, glare failing to quiet your bubbling laughter, his own lips tugging upward.

“It was necessary Mr. Lee! And you know you love Soonie.”

“Unfortunately.”

Nearly a month into her residence, and Soonie has become an effervescent force to be reckoned with. Although initially sassy and wary, she’s transformed into the most affectionate cat you’d ever met.

You have to give it to her, she’s grown on the both of you, a lot.

Plus, you might just have to thank her for unleashing Minho’s tender side, whether that’s the two of them cuddling on the couch while he naps or him picking her up and treating her like a baby while you watch from afar.

Over the course of the five months you’ve been here, you’ve sent countless checks back home—enough to where dues could finally be paid and the hope for a good life came into view.

Everything seems right, seems ideal.

But of course, on an equally ideal Thursday evening, a thousand pounds of bricks drops right on top of your head.

“How long were you planning to keep it from me?”

He, Lee Minho, The Alchemist, voices.

Simultaneously, your stomach plummets to your feet, peeking over your shoulder to find his back facing you, hunched over a straus flask.

Then the bomb drops.

“You being a woman, that is.”

Abruptly pausing, you don’t reply, worried you’d say the wrong thing, unintentionally summon the catalyst to this arising catastrophe.

Yet, you can’t stay quiet for too long. And a fear lingered inside, a fear that if he looked at you, you would break.

“Forever.”

Doing just what you dreaded, he turns to you, wearing a horribly serious expression.

You avoid eye-contact.

“Because you thought I would fire you?”

A nod.

“And that’s why you said that, when you first came to me? That you weren’t a woman asking for a job?”

Another nod.

He sighs, pulling glasses from atop a hooked nose. You remain staring at the floor.

“I don’t decide who to hire based on what they are. If you can do your job and do it well, you’re worthy enough to work.”

Minho spoke softly, the dim, orange lighting of his lamplight doing little to shake how overwhelming the occasion is, how it feels as if your disguise is wearing, thinning to an impossible degree.

Except, your world isn’t ending like you thought it would if someone found out, so why do you feel so heartbroken? So overstimulated with realization?

“How did you..” you trail off, raging tears longing to spill.

No, you can’t afford to cry now. You’ve held out so far, it will stay that way.

Should stay that way.

Minho dips his head lower in order to fully see you in all your lip-chewing, anxiety-ridden glory. The ghost of a smile rests upon his lips.

“It was impossible not to tell. You’re unusually tiny, those shoes are massive, and, um, I do the laundry.”

Watching his once bemused expression dissipate, you mark this as the first time you’ve ever seen him genuinely flustered—and, upon realizing he’d likely seen more than necessary as well, you’re also diminished to a bright red.

The room wilts in stillness before he exhales, stepping a bit closer to where you linger by the bookshelf, your heels tapping against the frame.

Tone minimizing itself terribly gentle, The Alchemist carefully collects your cheeks in his hands, urging you to see him, see those terribly thoughtful brown eyes granting a terribly kind disposition.

“It’s been scary, hasn’t it?”

Well, you had held out thus far.

Cracking into pieces, you melt like droplets of honey in his fingertips. He perfectly catches them in the jar.

Out of anyone in this world, you can’t help but be grateful he was the one who found out, found you.

Chest bubbling with breaking sobs, Minho’s thumbs caress your under eyes, swiping away the many salty droplets in their continuous descent.

Own hands shakily reaching up to hold his resting on your face, you stand there, soaking in his wooded, earthy scent and the soft hums he occasionally emits as if a reminder he’s still there, listening to your cries without intent to leave.

“Mr.. Mr. Lee… It was so scary, I’m so tired Mr. Lee,” You hiccup, mentally berating the endlessly freefalling tears, how your once staved emotions reduced your strong, dutiful voice into nothing but a stuttering mess.

Carefully swiping drool from your chin, he leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know why you did it, but I promise it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”

Then another kiss to your forehead, staying there until your sniffling and breathing calms.

Gathering yourself if only slightly, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a warm hug he gradually accepts after a beat of shock.

“Thank you, Minho.”

And just when he thought the shock faded, he’s struck again from the sound of his name leaving your mouth.

Minho.

Mr. Lee had been charming, but Minho, it was different. A good kind of different.

He particularly favored the way it sounded falling off your lips, two syllables he’d replay over and over, savoring each a little bit more than the last.

More so, he wished to substitute his nagging thoughts with you, have you narrate the phrases bouncing inside his skull.

Perhaps then everything wouldn’t be so loud, if he had your voice to nullify the battlefield.

Unfortunately forced to separate, Minho adjusts his tie, clearing his throat in a manner you can’t help but feel nervous about.

You like this flustered Minho.

“I’ll.. I’ll run you a bath.”

You wince at the rawness of your skin when your face wrinkles in a chuckle.

“Do I smell?”

Minho, frantically scrambling for an excuse, rubs his temples, exasperation evident in the grooves of his face, the curve and dip of prominent cheekbones portraying a mature visage.

“No I-“ He grumbles. “It helps calm you down.”

Merely able to halfway staunch your irrevocable glee, you call his name as he begins stepping out, ears an adorable pink.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N. L/N is my last name.”

Not allowing you view of his front-side, you listen to his whispering with delight, testing the newly discovered title on his tongue as if to memorize it.

Ah, you’re falling in love.

Or maybe you’ve already fallen.

Hastily closing the door behind himself and letting you get situated in the bath, it’s not long into your relaxing that you notice a shadow seeping through the door’s crack, a figure standing there, debating.

“Minho?” You announce amusedly, watching the shadow jump and causing you to bite your frothing laugh whilst choosing what to say next.

“Would you like to join me?”

The Alchemist audibly chokes on his saliva outside the door.

Sparing a few seconds for him to collect his oxygen, you hadn’t been prepared for when he replies a quiet: “Another time”.

Your eyebrows shoot up with surprise.

Daring.

Then his shadow, after furious shuffling, disappears, serving as a reminder of your extended time spent bathing.

Assembling the copper drain and pulling foreign nightwear over dampened skin, opposed to your usual rush to your room, you allow the chilling air to grant its harsh greeting, leaving the steamy room in its wake.

No more secrets. What a breath of fresh air.

Minho, still cooped up at his desk like routine, barely moves when you place your hands on his shoulders, adorning those charismatic glasses, lips pursed thoughtfully.

“You should go get some rest Mr– Minho,” You beckon, response a sleepy blink of his eyes, obviously exhausted.

“...I really wanted to kiss you.”

The remark drifting off as a murmur, you crane to hear him, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Hm?” Humming, you lightly push his back toward his quarters, the man begrudgingly following your inaudible orders.

At least he’s cooperating.

Abruptly, he turns around, evading your hands that ease his back forward, sporting a pout adorable enough you might just lose your mind.

How unfair that someone could behave like this and expect you to not go insane.

“When you started crying.” His eyes flicker to your lips, if only for a moment. “I really wanted to kiss you.”

A portion of your stock-still frame wants to blame his tiredness, but another so badly wants it to be true, wants those words to be irrevocably real.

Fighting the urge to scream with how stupidly childish he’s making you feel, you reject every ounce of sensibility, looping one arm around his neck, using your other hand’s index to tug him closer by the belt loop.

Trust, the feeling is mutual.

Why waste the opportunity?

“What’s stopping you?”

The utterance barely graces air, and in milliseconds he’s crashing into your lips, a wordless confession it is real, not a mere figment of your imagination.

Stumbling to loosen his tie whilst keeping your faces impossibly connected, you fall deeper and deeper into the manner he tilts his head, expertly diminishing you into puddy in his touch.

Back and forth, memorizing your taste on his tongue.

Clumsy footsteps lead to his sofa, your fingers tangled in his dark strands, his kneading your waist.

And it’s not until your lungs cry for oxygen that you pull apart, Minho’s bottom lip tugged and bitten, yours swollen with his feverish kisses.

Both of you avidly messy, you can’t bring yourself to care, too busy enjoying the afterglow, his dazed smile.

“Whoever you want to save,” He starts, carefully smoothing over your skin with his thumb . “I will save them, deal?”

Returning that same lazy smile he directs at you, the both of you lean back on the couch, a twine of legs and limbs flailing in every direction.

Close, closer.

A part of you aches at the thought, blinking up at such a stunning tragedy. Aches knowing you can’t return the favor, can’t say the same, promise him that same promise.

Because according to the Red Plague, he’s lost that person, those people. So you remain silent, merely hoping one day they’ll receive proper eternal rest.

That's something you might be able to promise.

Tipping your chin up to where it sits right above his heart, those brilliant eyes of yours blinking up at him do little for his well-being.

Has anyone told you you’re beautiful? Because he thinks you are, he knows you are.

Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?

Minho grins deeper, brows creasing, expression doused in unadulterated adoration.

“And yet, you rope me into something else,” He whispers to himself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, let’s run another bath. I’ll join you this time, hm?”

FIC TAGLIST. @linocz @foxinnie8 @wonniesverse

sunboki, may 2022 ©

464 notes · View notes

skteezcursed · 3 months

Text

❝DEVIL LOOKING ANGEL❞ — p.sh & l.mh

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

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

GENDER. smut. tiny bit of fluff.

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

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

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

WORD COUNT. 9k.

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

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

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey pretty, how is it going?”

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

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

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

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

“Lix said you almost done with the meat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What you doing here by yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But what if someone approaches?”

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

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

“We?”

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

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

“Hwa -”

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

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

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

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

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

“So, you and Minho talked about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You were right, she’s a brat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daydreaming pretty?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk slut.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Time for your first meal, slut.”

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

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

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

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

“Beg for it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now open.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Should we mark our little whore?”

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

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

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

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, fuck, yes ple-please!”

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

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

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

“Minho, we good?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes sir, I will.”

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

“You ready to cum, pretty little whore?”

“Yes, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck she’s clenching so much!”

“Take our cum slut, take it all.”

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

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

“Hwa plea-please…OH FUCK!”

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

“Time to fill you up for good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what does that makes us?”

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

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

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

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

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

general masterlist here ♡

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maxidentscene · 1 year

Text

anger management

⚘ genre. fluff, angst but not hella heavy idk i tried to make it pretty lighthearted

⚘ members. ot8

⚘ synopsis. post argument with bf!skz

chan checks on you even if you’re ignoring him

It had been a few days since the two of you went at it, you honestly couldn’t even remember what the argument was about. Everyone was just aware that the both of you were strictly not on talking terms, no questions asked

Truthfully, you missed him. Missed his dimples, missed his squeaky laugh, missed how his scent was so strong and comforting when you hugged him close. Fighting was so overrated but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to speak first

That’s why your heart leaped out of your throat the second you saw his name in your notifications. He had been the first to bite, swallowing his pride and asking if you needed any essentials while he was out shopping. You felt fragile, teary eyed as you typed the fastest you’ve ever typed in your entire life, letting him know that all you really needed was his presence

You stood in the doorway when he knocked, embracing each other and relaxing into each others arms. “We aren’t ever doing this again,” you sniffled against his shirt, that little giggle you’ve missed painting a smile onto your face. “Got it?”

“Yes!” He cried out with a laugh, jumping and flinching away from you as you pinched his side playfully. “I got it! Stop it!”

lee know takes you out as an apology

Here you were, laying face down on your bed, cheeks burning hot and shoved into your plushy pillows. Just minutes ago, you’d been scolding Minho quite angrily for a stupid reason, so worked up that you slammed the bedroom door in his face without second thought

Naturally, guilt had washed over your entire being almost immediately and you were currently planning out an apology in your head. Maybe a massage, maybe run him a relaxing bath and wash his hair for him, pay for the cat’s monthly supply of litter

Soft taps of knuckles against the door startled you. “Get dressed,” Minho’s voice chimed behind the wood, and you did as you were told, wiping your wet face and tugging a clean top over your head. It was the least you could do after your outburst

“Where are we going?” You asked gently as he took your hand in his, nose stuffed up and congested with all of the aggressive crying you did. He spared you a glance, sending a small smile your way before leading you to the uber he had called up

“Dinner,” he placed his hand on your head, soothingly patting you the same he would do to his cats. You melted in his touch, your mind and body both defeated. “I think I have a few things to fix between us.”

changbin can never stay mad at you

Teasing was an everyday thing with you and the boys, always constantly throwing friendly jabs at each other for being bad at a game or folding laundry a weird way. Today’s target was Changbin, and not knowing he was already in a bit of a sensitive mood, you had taken it too far on accident

He had left the room in a hurry, storming down the hallway and locking himself in his room as you sat on the couch, dumbfounded. “Look what you did,” Chan jokingly shook his head in disapproval before patting your back. “Luckily it would kill him to be mad at you. Go give him some love and say you’re sorry.”

Taking Chan’s advice, you hurried to Bin’s room and swallowed a lump in your throat as you knocked. “Answer me,” you whined from the other side, heart feeling a bit lighter as he opened the door with a small pout on his lips, the heated blush on his skin slowly calming down. “I’m sorry,” you coo and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. “I didn’t mean it.”

You could faintly hear Chan’s laugh in the living room and it made you giggle too because he was totally right, Changbin quite literally became putty in your hands and enveloped you in a strong hug. “You aren’t funny,” he sighs into your shoulder. “Literally so not funny.”

“Yes, yes,” you sighed before giving his ass a light smack. “I know.”

hyunjin gets extra clingy once all is well

Clingy is an understatement. Hyunjin has not let you go ever since you entered the dorm, and that was an hour ago. He’s got his head in your lap, snuggled against your stomach and humming at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “You’re done being mad at me, right?”

You furrow your brows and tug at his light strands just a bit, earning a soft smack on your arm. “You were mad at me too, don’t act like I was the bad guy here.”

He giggled at your stern voice before completely wrapping his arms around your torso, cheek squished against your arm as he stared up at you. His eyes were hard to read sometimes, so deep in thought you weren’t sure what he was feeling. They flickered with an emotion that you couldn’t pick apart and you sighed, hoping he wasn’t about to cry

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs, twisting his head a bit to kiss the skin of your arm closest to him. “I hate fighting. Didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Your sweet boy. His heart was too big for his body, you could feel the slight tremble of his body against yours and you could only give him a smile. “I know, Hyune,” you flicked his forehead before leaning down to plant a kiss on it. “You never mean to make me upset, I know that. I’m sorry, too.”

han isolates until you offer some sweets

“Where is he?” you sigh sadly, arms aching as the plastic bags you carried were starting to weigh them down. Hyunjin jumped up to take them from your arms, setting them on the counter and shooting you a sorry look. He must’ve heard the yelling last night, it would’ve been hard to miss, honestly

“He’s holed up in his room,” Hyunjin pointed a finger towards his room before rummaging through the bags. “Oh, you’ll win him back with all of this, that’s for sure,” He clapped excitedly before sneaking a bag of gummies and running off to his room. “Good luck!”

Picking up the bags again, you mentally prepared yourself. The fight was normal, couples argue from time to time of course, but seeing Jisung so defeated would break anyone’s heart. You used that as motivation to burst through the door, not surprised to find a curled up lump under the comforter

You leaped up and splayed yourself over his body, hugging him over the blankets and letting your presence be known before standing up to spill the snacks out of the grocery bags. A fluffy brown head of hair peeked out to witness the mess, eyes brightening up at the sight of all of the treats

“Forgive me?” You asked with your arms wide open, delighted to be scooped up just seconds later and tugged under his covers

felix is heartbroken and the members are begging for forgiveness

Days have passed since the two of you got into a disagreement, mutually deciding that time apart was best. Of course it wasn’t much of their business, but the boys at the dorm felt almost as if they were apart of the disagreement as well when they saw Felix. It was hard to watch, their usual bundle of joy and love slumping around in his pajama pants

Your phone rang as you were on your way to pick something up and you were shocked to see Seungmin calling you up. As soon as you accepted the call, pleas from all 3 of the cuties dorm residents were in your ear, whining and begging you to come back

“I’ve never seen him so upset,” Jeongin cried out jokingly, you could picture him clutching at his chest and falling to the floor. “It’s been days, don’t you miss us too? This family is falling apart! Get over here!”

These boys. You let out a drawn out sigh into the receiver before accepting their invite, turning on your heels and walking over to the dorm. You admittedly had missed Felix, the argument was petty and it felt like it was so long ago that it didn’t even matter anymore

Arms wrapped around you the second you step foot into the building, soft hands massaging the back of your neck and you melted instantly into the familiar touch. “You’re too sweet for your own good,” you laughed into his shoulder, watching the other three members giving you thumbs up in the kitchen

seungmin will not tolerate the silent treatment

To be clear, if it were a more serious situation, Seungmin’s approach would be a lot different than this but the topic at hand that made you annoyed was the fact that he accidentally lost you in the mall. It had been a busier day and he swore that you were just at his side as he was looking at shoes but suddenly, you were gone

He found you sitting on a bench outside of a store, pouting to yourself after you had tried to find him for several minutes. He hadn’t answered his phone so you just decided to let him find you himself

When he did, he laughed harder than he ever has before, eyes squeezed shut as he wrapped a lanky arm around your shoulder. “You gotta understand!” He held your face in his hands as you pretended to be mad, turning your face away. “I seriously thought you were right beside me!”

Fake glares were shot his way and you decided to just stay quiet, getting up and taking his hand to lead him to the food court. “This never works on me and you know that,” he whined before pulling out his wallet. “I’ll get you whatever you want, but you can’t stay silent on me.”

“Learn to answer your phone when it rings, Kim Seungmin,” you grumbled as you pulled him into the line of the ice cream place. “I want two scoops this time.”

jeongin doesn’t have the heart to shut you out completely

Honestly, it was your first argument as a couple and he really just did not know how to handle it. Usually he just needs to have time to himself to calm down, but he can’t sit here comfortably without you. God, when had he become so cringe?

Just looking around in his phone and room were constant reminders of you. You were everywhere, his space had became your space as well

There were the pictures, the old texts that you two sent when you were planning your most recent date, the videos that you had taken on his phone while he was getting hair and makeup done. He could see the sleeve of one of your favorite hoodies poking out of his closet and the gum wrapper you forgot to trash was sitting on his desk

Defeat. This was utter defeat. Jeongin picked up his phone, fingers quick to find your contact and ring you up, letting out a breath once you answered. “Come over,” he let out a small laugh, unsure if he’s doing this right. “I know I literally told you that I wanted space minutes ago but that was enough.”

You bit back a smile on the other side of the phone, heart pounding in your chest at how cute he was. It would really probably destroy Jeongin to be mad at you

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz headcannons #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz comfort

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silentcryracha · 10 months

Text

❍ ‗ Big Boy (L. Minho) ‗ ❍

Pairing : f reader x Minho

Summary : You see your boyfriend shirtless for the first time in a while and realize he got buff in the meantime

Genre/warnings : pure smut (kinda soft bc I can't help myself), 18 + ONLY, unprotected sex, m oral receiving, reader is called kitty a few times (not big on the term but by now it's Minho's, just replace it with baby if you feel like it)

Word count : 1.5k

A/n : Inspired by this set of gifs because I'm actually on the floor as we speak, no thots just drool

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bathroom was completely steamed up as you entered, making you huff slightly.

"It's so hot in here" you said, then immediately stopping in your tracks as you took in the image of your boyfriend.

He was quietly standing in front of the full length mirror, only wearing a towel around his hips as he dried his hair with the hairdryer. He noticed you come in thanks to the reflection, turning off the noise and looking back at you.

"What was that?" his tone calm and casual, as if he wasn't looking like a literal marble sculpture come to life. You rested your hands on your hips, borderline annoyed at the fact that somehow you missed your boyfriend changing so much.

"When the hell did you get so buff?" Minho couldn't help but smirk at your words, slowly putting away the hairdryer to give you his full attention.

"Don't know, since I started working again with the PT, I guess." he spoke, walking closer like a cat that was about to catch his prey.

"You must've exploded in the last couple of weeks because there's no way that I didn't notice, with all the times that we've seen each other naked" you raised you eyebrows, placing your hands on his chest.

Minho's sly expression didn't falter, if anything became even more mischievous as your hands started to roam from his upper chest, to his shoulders, biceps.

"To be fair we were a bit too busy fucking to clearly take each other in. I've been so busy lately that we didn't even manage to take a shower together." his tone was so casual even saying the most dirty things sometimes that it made you blush.

"Whatever the reason, I won't let you out of my sight again, Lee Minho" your eyes looking up at him flirtatiously, while your hands slowly made their way lower towards his tummy. He sustained your gaze, his brown eyes intense as ever.

"How do I know that my kitten will not overlook me again?" the condescension in his voice instantly shifted the mood, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

You decided to play his game, sliding lower and lower until you were kneeling on the ground. Hands on his hips, just lightly gripping the hem of the towel that was holding on for deal life to his shower-clean body.

"I'm so sorry. Will you let me make it up to my baby?" Your eyes still fixed on each other as you spoke. You waited for his spoken permission, even though the growing tent underneath the towel fabric was enough of an answer.

"I'll decide later. Wanna see how sorry you are, first" his cherry red hair fell a little on his eyes as his head was bent down, which made his gaze even darker somehow.

"I'll try my very best" the towel finally dropped to the ground with just a little tug from your fingers, revealing his hard cock. His abs tightened for a second as you took him into both of your hands, starting to move them up and down slowly but firmly, making it hard for Minho to not choke on air.

He tried to hide the noise by clearing his throat, simultaneously placing his right hand on your head, without forcing it, but merely resting there. You took it as a sign to take a step further, opening your mouth to take his cock, sucking on the tip.

His fingertips lightly grabbed at your scalp, but luckily, or not, for him, you had decided to take your sweet time. So instead you removed one hand from his dick to interlace your fingers with his, guiding his hand away from your head to his side.

He must've found it amusing, since he released a faint chuckle as he decided to let you lead for once, placing both hands behind his back.

For some reason, his sudden willingness to give up his usually dominant demeanor pushed you to try and do even better, desperately wanting to prove yourself to him. Your mouth opened even more as you took him deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat.

"Shit, my baby is really trying her best for me, isn't she?" he groaned, the humor in his voice never completely overshadowed by the arousal. The praise made you hum against him, which also made his hips buck onwards, making you gag a bit.

It wasn't exactly a mistake since he just kept going, with a steady pace, not thoroughly fucking your throat, but making sure that you gagged a bit at every stroke. Your head went still as you let him use you however he wanted, making the strokes of your hand on his cock almost automatic.

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes as your nails lightly dug into the flesh of his ass cheeks, making him hiss.

"Alright enough- I need to fuck you" Minho pulled back, releasing himself from your mouth and then bending down to reach for your face with his hands. His lips crashed with yours, immediately initiating a sloppy and messy kiss that was all teeth, tongue and lip biting.

Your hands gripped his arms for stability as he started to undress you, pulling down your pants and underwear in one go, and then interrupting the kiss to slip off your shirt too.

What he did after though, was unexpected, as he gripped your thighs and effortlessly picked you up, making you instinctively wrap your legs around him.

"Minho!" you gasped at his strength. He was always quite strong even when he didn't have as many muscles, but at least he looked like he did struggle just a little bit. But now, you could've easily been a sack of flour and it wouldn't have made a difference to him.

"You thought that they were just for aesthetic?" he laughed at you, crashing his lips to yours one more time before throwing you on the soft bed. Minho didn't waste time as he put two of his fingers, his pointer and middle, in your mouth.

"I'm sure you're wet enough, but just to make sure" he murmured, a glimmer of humor in his dark eyes. You eagerly did as you were told, sucking on his fingers and bobbing your head slightly too, just like you were doing moments before on his cock.

He groaned, too horny to let you continue your actions. He removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them south to rub up and down your slit. At the same time he leaned down to leave sloppy kisses to your neck, your arms wrapping around his neck and your hips bucking up.

"Such a good kitty for me. My good girl" he murmured against your skin, eliciting a hum from you that quite literally sounded like a purr. But of course it wouldn't be Minho without a whiplash, so he suddenly bit your shoulder, grazing it with his teeth and making you gasp.

"A good kitty that should remember to show love to her boyfriend, next time" his tone wasn't serious at all, but your response was. In addition, two of his fingers were now pumping in and out of you, getting you ready for him properly.

"So sorry, baby- ah, I'll make it up to you, I love you so much" he just chuckled at your desperate words, deciding to end both of your suffering as he removed his fingers from your pussy, replacing them with his cock instead.

"I know baby, I know" his voice much more softer, in stark comparison with the fairly quick strokes of his hips. "I know my baby loves me very much, I love you too" he continued.

Your legs wrapped around him, essentially pushing him deeper into you. Your mouth latched to his as you both moaned. It wasn't unusual to get these sweet moments with Minho, but his dominant side tended to show more in bed.

He just wanted to make sure that he knew that you loved him. That you found him attractive and cared for him, regardless of a few centimeters more or less to his biceps.

The new angle of his hips made sure that your clit rubbed on his pubic bone, which quickly got you to your orgasm. You moaned his name breathlessly as you came, lightly dragging your nails on his back. This action in addition to your walls getting impossibly tight around his cock made him come too.

Minho stilled for a few seconds as he came inside you, and made sure to gently ride out both of your orgasms afterwards. Unexpectedly, you turned your head to the side, leaving a teasing but gentle bite to his bicep, as his arms were caging you.

"You look really hot, by the way, if it wasn't obvious" voice dangerously teasing. Minho got his head up from your shoulder, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Careful or we might stay here all day, kitten" he responded, to then gently leave a kiss on your lips. "Thank you, by the way. Next time you can come see them in the making, if you want." he added, his head nudging to his arms.

You chuckled, still keeping him close as you moved some sweaty hair from his forehead. "I'd love to"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#stray kids fanfic #my writing #silentcryracha #skz hard hours #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids lee know #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids minho #lee minho smut #lee minho #skz lee know #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know smut #skz drabbles

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moonjxsung · 7 months

Text

Where the Storm Looms

*This fic is part 2 to “When the Rain Stops.” You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 13k

Warnings: smoking, drinking, mention of cheating, mention of masturbation, mention of casual sex, brief mention of calories, nipple play, unprotected sex, bulge kink, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: Now living in the city he despises, Minho is determined to find you again- despite the sacrifices he’ll have to make.

18+. mdni!

•

They say if you love something, you have to set it free. And if it comes back to you, it’s yours.

So what implication can be drawn if you go searching for it- for three months and 13 days straight?

Minho isn’t sure.

The city is just as grimy as he remembered it- teeming with the sounds of pushy street vendors, bumper-to-bumper traffic and conversations of plummeting stocks at every corner. The coffee is overpriced, and the people dress in gray slacks even on laundry day. The girls are pretty- they’re decent in bed, they work good jobs and they can carry a conversation well as long as it involves their respective companies or an ex-boyfriend.

But none of them are you.

Minho feels stupid for thinking about it this extensively. A random hookup in his bar as a result of bad weather conditions- one you never even bothered saying goodbye to him after, and yet he’s still hung up on you.

That stupid game. He should've never let you fix that arcade game. Maybe then you wouldn’t have stayed so long, wouldn’t have kissed him back even though he’s the one who initiated it. Wouldn’t have let him fuck you on the pool table, moaning his name over and over again like a prayer permanently etched into his memory. But he didn’t stop any part of it- in fact, he didn’t want to. Minho knows he wouldn’t have been able to deny you anything you asked for that night, not with the way you looked at him through wide sparkling eyes, scared you’d angered him, when all he really wanted was to keep you safe. Safe from the storm, safe from people with ill intent. He’d pour you a hundred cups of Diet Coke on the rocks if you asked, or be a chance card in another game of pool you’d inevitably lose at. He’d make love to you repeatedly on any surface inside the dive bar, kissing you every chance he got like it would be his last. Because you changed something in him that night- and he’s determined to find you again.

“Still waiting on that garlic bread. And we have another order for fettuccine.”

Minho nods once, drizzling a pan with olive oil and prepping the ingredients that sit in disarray on the counter in front of him.

Tales from the hotel kitchen.

So maybe getting his job back as a private chef was a harder feat than he’d originally anticipated it to be. But Minho’s sudden assimilation back into city life meant he had to make adjustments- sacrifices. And although he’s still technically the owner of the little dive bar 6 hours out of the city, he recently signed co-ownership off to Jeongin, who’s been practically running the place while Minho does some soul-searching in the city.

Of course, the soul he’s searching for is nowhere to be found.

Coffee shops, bookstores, convenience shops, dive bars... Minho recently read there are nearly 2 million people in this godforsaken city at any given moment of the day. That’s a 0.0000005% chance he’ll run into you again. Coupled with the fact he’s already run into you once before, and slept with you, the odds are considerably lower. But nonetheless, the objective remains.

Sometime after the initial run-in, Minho also realized he knows nearly nothing about you. You never spoke of an occupation, or a significant other, or even your favorite color. He does know you live in the city, you’re vulnerable against married men and you can use a screwdriver like a cellphone. The rest is left to his wandering imagination.

“Minho, your bread is burning,” a voice interrupts, and he snaps out of the daze he’s in to lower the heat on the oven. Minho’s sous chef Seungmin sighs in irritation, practically pushing Minho aside to retrieve the loaf from the oven himself.

“Do you want me to take over for the evening? You seem really distracted and we’re super busy out there.”

“No, I’m fine,” Minho says, his eyes darting briefly to the window across from him.

Dark rain clouds loom over the afternoon sky, but it doesn’t rain- in fact, it hasn’t rained once since that night. At first, he sees it as some sort of blessing, attributing the mostly-clear skies to your presence somewhere in the city. Perhaps where you go, the sun follows.

But he quickly realizes that it’s more of a curse, this constant storm looming over him, taunting him with promises of darkened clouds and rainfall, only for the nighttime to bring clear skies once again.

It never rains anymore. Sometimes Minho thinks he imagined you, that night in his bar.

Maybe he imagined the rain, too.

The ceiling of this apartment is in desperate need of some TLC, Minho thinks, as he lays in bed that night with hands folded over his chest. It’s riddled with cracks and imperfections, running along the drywall like a design choice. But it’s not a design choice- it’s a result of the shitty architectural integrity of this crowded city. Everyone’s so desperate to live out here they’d put up with leaky roofs and cockroaches before they’d live in the suburbs. Minho thinks back to his apartment in the suburbs, where his three cats are currently being taken care of by a friend, and the biggest pain point is patching up thumbtack holes when he moves things around. It’s spacious, a lot bigger than this dump, and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.

There’s no set time Minho has dedicated to being out here. “When the time is right, I’ll leave,” he told his friend, averting his gaze to avoid raising suspicions about his intentions out here. But to most, it’s clear Minho is going through something. His hair is visibly longer, the silky ends of it now resting just above his shoulders. He can’t be bothered to care about what he wears, knowing very well that he doesn’t blend in with the other city-dwellers when he’s in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. But without the bar to dress up for like he used to, he doesn’t find reason in trying.

Minho’s also well aware that he looks like a complete lunatic, coming out to the city like this to search for a hookup. If your paths do cross, there’s a likelihood you’ll call the police and have him arrested for stalking. You could also have zero recollection of who he is, or that you ever hooked up with him. You could have a boyfriend, be married by now, or just not interested in Minho. Maybe you regret that night. Maybe you lied about being from the city. You could be on the other side of the world by now, and he’d have no clue.

But he feels it- he feels you, in this city, at every corner he turns. He sees traces of you in the people who smile at him when he passes them by. He sees you in the people who hold doors open for him, the baristas who make foam hearts in his lattes every morning, even the businessmen when they catch themselves admiring the beauty of the buildings on a smoke break. He sees you in all things good, when he’s reminded momentarily that the world has more to offer than boxing him in the confines of a dark bar out in the suburbs. And while he’s not completely in love with life all over again, it’s a start.

The hotel patrons give their compliments to his cooking, and he’s reminded of his days as a private chef again, chasing the sweet high of people fawning over his entrees and desserts. When he calls Jeongin to check up on the bar, he remembers the view out the window by the kitchen- nothing but a parking lot, empty most days, or plagued by truck drivers and prostitutes.

Sure, his apartment window in the city faces a brick wall, but he can escape at any given moment of the day to be part of the towering skyscrapers and city lights that stay on all night. It’s then that he feels bad for Jeongin, who doesn’t have the same luxury all the way out there.

Of course, Minho also remembers the sex from that night. It plays in his head on a loop, often echoing in his brain at the worst of times. The way you’d called out his name was all but intoxicating, chanting it in the empty space of the spare room like you’d done it a hundred times before. Your fingers looped through his hair, massaging his locks in praise while your moans did the rest. Your lips on his, smiling when he teased you about the game of pool- teasing him back, like the complex woman he knew you were.

He remembers the way your hardened nipples felt between his fingers, memorizing their feel with his nimble hands while he pressed his third erection of the night against you, a confession that this is what you do to me.

The way you took him with complete ease, undoubtedly craving him, too, gushing with arousal as he fit so perfectly inside you.

“You’re so big,” you’d said to him, and Minho isn’t sure he ever felt confident in his girth until it was inside of you, thrusting in and out like he was trying to make his semen catch, painting your walls white while you squirted on his still-hard cock.

He can’t get off with girls from the city unless he’s thinking of you and him, in the bar, bent over the pool table. He also avoids the spare room of the bar now, getting hard almost instantly at the sight of it.

It’s embarrassing, and he knows it, tucking his now-softened cock back into his boxers and reaching for tissues on his makeshift cardboard box nightstand. The shame washes over him as he folds his hands over his chest again, eyes locked with the shitty drywall ceiling. Have the cracks gotten bigger? He’s not sure of the large one to the left, caving in toward the window in the shape of a backwards L. If it rains, the roof will surely leak. How do you fix a leaky roof? Is it ever going to rain again? Where are you?

On a random Tuesday in the middle of the month, Minho runs into Jisung again.

He’s out by one of the tall buildings in the financial district, one hand shoved in the pocket of his suit while the other brings a turquoise-colored vape up to his lips.

Of course he vapes, Minho thinks. He’s just as predictable as he’s always been.

“Is that the Lee Minho?” Jisung says, blowing a cloud of strawberry-scented smoke into the air. Minho shrugs, saying nothing as he approaches Jisung.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Lost ownership of the bar or what?”

“No,” Minho replies, a stoic expression on his face. “I’m living here.”

“You’re living here? You? Avid hater of city life and all things that inhabit it?”

“Yeah,” Minho says, counting black spots on the concrete below him. “Not permanently. Just looking for something.”

“What are you looking for?”

Minho swallows momentarily. He knows he could bring up your name, and Jisung would probably know where to find you. After all, the two of you bonded over your love of the city before you almost went home with him that night. But he refrains, suddenly feeling a little jealous and overprotective. It’s the reminder that Minho was technically a second choice- maybe you’d just slept with him to get some relief for the sexual tension you felt with Jisung. You did lecture him when he cockblocked you, after all.

“Seeing if the apartments are better out here,” he settles on saying. “They’re not.”

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, well, I could’ve easily told you that.”

He slides his vape back into the pocket of his suit, adjusting the buttons as he begins to speak again.

“When was the last time I saw you, anyway?”

Minho blinks nervously. His mind races with options of what to reply, but Jisung is faster.

“That storm!” He finally exclaims, clapping enthusiastically. “When we were stuck there while it rained fucking cats and dogs out there. You, me and Miss ‘hard to get’.”

“Right,” Minho says, his pulse quickening a little at the mention of you.

“Can you believe she backed out like that? I went back to that hotel with blue balls like you wouldn’t believe. I bet she’s a good fuck, too, the way she’s persuaded so easily.”

Minho grows irate, doing his best to refrain from lashing out at Jisung to defend you. The way he speaks about you like you’re disposable, like you weren’t only swayed by him because he puts on this act, one where he’s single and nice. Both polar opposite of the sleazy man standing in front of Minho right now.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jisung says. “I ran into her like a week after that, anyway.”

Minho feels his heart stop. He finally makes eye contact with Jisung, voice hitching in the back of his throat as he searches for words to say. What were you doing? What were you wearing? Were you with anyone? Did Jisung try to pursue you again? Was there any trace that you were as changed by Minho as he is by you?

“You did?” Minho queries.

“Yeah. She remembered me, for sure. Said she googled me and found out I was married. That’s the problem with women these days- they fucking google you. Who does that?”

Minho observes the way Jisung snorts with laughter, shaking his head like he’s not a serial cheater himself.

“Where was she?” Minho asks, quickly aware of the way the question comes off as a little too bold.

“Uh… I can’t remember. Think we were in the parking garage off 7th. She was all dressed up like she was going to work or something. Must be a private investigator with the way she stalks her potential hookups.”

Minho laughs internally at the irony.

“Why do you ask?” Jisung chimes in again, sounding a little skeptical of Minho’s behavior now.

“Nothing,” Minho says quickly. “Just curious.”

Jisung nods slowly, not taking his gaze off of Minho. He’s visibly tense, thoughts circling his mind as he tries to recall the buildings on 7th.

“I should get going,” Jisung says, pulling his vape back out to take another hit, much like the nicotine-addicted cheater Minho sees him for.

“Good catching up,” Jisung finishes, exhaling a cloud of smoke into his face. “Catch you later.”

And as Minho leaves, he turns back around to Jisung, pausing momentarily before speaking again.

“Oh, Jisung?”

“Yeah?”

Minho cocks his head slightly.

“Your wife really deserves better.”

The parking garage on 7th is a shithole. It’s a narrow, almost cylindrical building, filled back to back with rows of fancy cars. Minho remains parked on the third floor, sat in his car like he’s staking out the place, eyes darting over every passerby in hopes you’ll be one of them.

But they’re all middle-aged folks, blabbering into their cellphones with briefcases in hand, no sense of purpose for the life they’re living aside from money, and maybe their fancy cars.

He sighs, reaching for a cigarette and cupping his hand over the lighter to set it ablaze. Smoking is a recent development. Minho doesn’t think he’s chain-smoked like this since his culinary school days, when he’d spend late nights preparing for exams and practicing his plating techniques. It’s not that the cigarettes relieve him, nor does he even care for the flavor. But he does it as a form of sacrifice. The city keeps you from him, and consequently, he’s pulled back largely from things he actually enjoys, choosing to mirror the actions of the city-dwellers. Smoking, casual sex, drinking, dressing down, hardly ever eating full meals. He’s become reduced to a product of the disdain he feels for himself, spiraling further with every cruel reminder that you’re not his.

When his car stakeout passes the three hour mark, Minho is all out of cigarettes. He’s also starving, and dying for a beer. So he pulls out of the lot, most of the spaces vacant now, anyway, and starts the painful trip back to his apartment. The streets smell like sewage with his windows rolled down, but his own car reeks like a cheap casino. With one hand hanging loosely over the door of his car, Minho speeds down the crowded streets, groaning when he’s promptly halted by a red light. Cars press their horns impatiently as nobody seems to move. Minho glances to the right of him, scanning the streets that begin to darken as night falls. And then he sees it- a dive bar. It’s a city dive bar, of course, tainted by its rustic gentrifying decor and teeming with hipsters. But he’s sure you’re in there, knowing you probably regularly finish work and hit up the nearest bar to down Diet Cokes and chicken wings. In a frantic motion, Minho puts the car in reverse, using one hand to steer as he makes an illegal u-turn. The cars around him honk angrily, shouting profanities and pulling up to fill his spot. But he crosses several lanes to reach the bar, a sense of anticipation bubbling inside him already.

The place is much fancier than Minho’s, albeit much smaller. An open bar makes up most of the dive bar itself, a sleek laminate wood finish surrounding the series of draft beer dispensers. The wall above the bar is plastered in license plates from all different regions, and the patrons around all appear to be tourists judging by the way they take photos of it. There are several bartenders working tonight, the nearest one to Minho being a heavily tattooed gentleman with bleach blonde hair.

“What can I get you?” He asks enthusiastically, holding a pen and pad in his hand. Minho’s not sure he’s ever seen a bartender write down an order for a single beer.

When the bartender makes his way to the tap, Minho sits on one of the circular red stools. They’re a little too tall for his liking, swiveling around erratically while he catches his balance and glances around at the patrons. He’s the only one alone here, standing out even more in his loose jeans and an old jersey.

“That’s $12,” the bartender says when he returns.

“Can I just run a tab?” Minho asks, scoffing internally at the steep price.

“First drink’s upfront payment,” the bartender replies, flipping a tablet around to Minho for his payment details. Minho swipes his card and confidently smashes the ‘no tip’ button, earning a little eye roll from the bartender. These bars are nothing like his back home.

When the bartender moves away to attend to another patron, Minho swivels around on his stool, scanning the bar for a sign of you. There’s not a single cup of coke on any of the tables here. Everyone’s happily sipping away at whiskeys and vermouths, their drinks clutched closely in hand as they chat about their boring lives. Minho tunes in briefly to a conversation about someone’s broken toe and sighs, wishing so badly he had you to converse with. You’d probably laugh at all of Minho’s jokes about the people here, agreeing with his presumptions of them. See him? He’s definitely compensating. That guy there needs to cool off the vodka seltzers. She’s definitely not interested in him.

As he takes a sip from his mug of beer, it suddenly catches his eye. The arcade game, tucked away in the back of the bar like a little secret. It’s neglected, probably no one around old enough to know how to operate the thing. Minho rises from his seat, making his way to the game and smiling at the sight.

It reminds him of you, the giant black display of Galaga, decorated with whimsical drawings of aliens and Galaxian Flagships. He pulls out a quarter, slotting it in the machine, because of course you have to pay at this one, and slots it in, waiting for the thing to start up.

Only it doesn’t, the game not even emitting so much as a hum from the monitor. He smacks it a few times, partly in efforts to start it up, and partly to reclaim his last quarter. But it’s a moot effort- the game is completely dead.

Minho makes his way back to the bar, frustrated at the deja vu of broken arcade games and the memories they bring back to him.

“Your game’s broken,” Minho says to the bleach blonde bartender.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That thing’s been dead for months now.”

“I put a quarter in. Swallowed it and won’t spit it out.”

“Yeah, it does that. Sorry, man.”

“Sorry? You should be. That thing shouldn’t be down here if it isn’t working.”

The bartender narrows his eyes as he mixes another drink for a patron.

“Yeah, well, people don’t usually try it. Again, sorry man. Not really anything I can do about it.”

Minho is angry now, his ears flushed a crimson shade as he speaks, not in any mood to reason with the bartender.

“Look man, just give me my quarter. Can’t you key the machine or something?”

“We don’t have access to it. It’s from some local vendor. You’re welcome to go find a few pennies on the ground if the 25 cents means so much to you.”

“What the fuck kind of behavior is that for a bartender?”

The other patrons and bartenders have noticed now, quieting down as they watch Minho down a few more sips of his beer angrily.

“Look man, you’re gonna have to leave. I can’t have you in here acting like this.”

“I want my quarter.”

“I can’t get your quarter, dude. It’s gone. Get out before I call the police.”

“Why don’t you hire someone to fix the machine, then? There are people in the city who do that, you know. I know someone who’d get it fixed in seconds. She’d be able to get the fucking quarter out, too.”

“Call the police,” the bartender says to another, and Minho raises his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I’m leaving.” He chugs the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as the other patrons look on in shock. Nearby, a different bartender has a phone clutched in his hand, ready to dial the cops like they’d requested.

“Tell me one thing,” Minho says before turning around.

The man says nothing, eyes narrowed in fear as he waits for Minho to finish.

“You guys sell Diet Coke here?”

The bartenders look around at each other nervously, confused at the question.

“We only have Pepsi,” one chimes in.

And Minho nods, understanding.

“Take care,” Minho says, waving them off as he finally exits the bar.

“I need you to come back for a little bit,” Jeongin says into the receiver one morning. He sounds panicked, like he might break down at any moment. Minho knows he wouldn’t request this of him if it wasn't something serious.

“Okay,” Minho replies. “What happened?”

“The place was robbed last night. By a group of guys. Nobody’s hurt, but they did have a knife on them. Cleared out one of the registers.”

Minho sighs, suddenly feeling awful about being out here. What is he doing out here when the business he owns is being threatened? Even worse, putting Jeongin and the other staff at risk while he embarks on the futile task of searching for what’s already gone? There’s no good explanation for it. It’s selfish- sure, he’s finally chasing after what he wants, but it’s a selfish task nonetheless.

“I can be there this evening,” Minho says, already mentally preparing himself for the six hour drive out there. “Just close up for the day. Make sure everyone gets home safe and knows they’ll be paid for the day anyway.”

Jeongin understands, hanging up on his end of the line and closing up the bar.

As Minho tosses his cell phone aside, he looks around the apartment, sighing heavily when he observes the state of things. His stuff is still stored away in cardboard boxes, the apartment looking more like a showroom than a space lived-in by him. The walls remain bare of any form of decorations, the tiny excuse for a kitchen is void of dishes and cutlery, even his toiletries are in travel bags, like he’s ready to go home at any given moment. And he just might be, after this week’s events.

The drive home is as excruciating as he remembers it. Exiting the city means sitting in miles of traffic, alongside impatient city-dwellers who somehow voluntarily make the commute everyday for their jobs. Minho briefly wonders if you’re in the traffic, too. You’re a little impatient, he remembers, thinking about how you demanded a phone charger from him that night in the bar. Only your impatience is something he’d gladly put up with in traffic like this, probably taking the opportunity to play his favorite songs for you and listen to you talk his ear off. He sighs to himself, wishing so badly you could fill the empty leather seat next to him, currently inhabited by empty cigarette boxes and discarded takeout boxes.

Six agonizing hours later, the sun’s beginning to set as Minho pulls into the familiar parking lot of the bar. Waning beams of sunlight reflect off the old bar sign, almost luring Minho inside as the nighttime chases closely after. When he unlocks the door and makes his way inside, it’s like he never left. The red booths are vacant, the peeling vinyl of their seats still scattered across the floor like he remembers. Bottles of alcohol neatly line the shelves behind the counter, which don’t reside far from the shiny mugs and glasses inside the cabinets. Minho runs a finger over the counter, well impressed with the state of the bar since Jeongin’s taken over. It’s impeccable, almost better than it was when Minho first left.

“Minho?” A voice calls, and a figure peeks from around the corner.

It’s Jeongin, who looks different in casual wear for the day, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. He’s wearing his signature pair of thick framed glasses, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on one of the barstools.

“It was this register,” he says, gesturing to the one closest to Minho. “I think it was roughly $300 in there. They all had dark jackets and I couldn’t see their faces.”

Minho nods, opening the register to investigate, and then slumps back in the stool behind the counter.

“I’ll take the remaining cash to the safe. Let’s stay closed for a few days while I file a police report. They’ll probably want to poke around in here, and I don’t want any of the patrons to panic.”

It’s Jeongin’s turn to nod, making a mental note of Minho’s instructions. After a brief pause, he speaks again.

“How’s the city?”

“The city is…the city.”

Jeongin chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

“Are you working?”

Minho nods. “Not my private chef gig. But it’s a restaurant. I have a sous chef, which helps. It’s nothing special, though.”

There’s a moment of silence as Jeongin traces the table pattern with his fingers. He wants to ask more from him- he wants to know why Minho’s out there in the first place, why he even agreed to sign co-ownership off to Jeongin when this was his bar he was so proud of for all those years. But there’s seemingly no courteous way to go about it- any which way, he feels like he’s overstepping. Minho is usually on the quieter side, only confiding in his colleagues when it’s something that affects the business.

“Minho, are you…” he begins, his voice wavering in fear that he’ll unintentionally offend.

“Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Minho is silent, and for a second, it’s hard for Jeongin to gauge his reaction. His eyes remain locked on Jeongin’s pupils, trembling in discomfort as he thinks back to you. He thinks of the city, of the bar fight, of the hours spent in a dingy parking garage and the cracks in his apartment ceiling.

Jeongin begins to take back his question, disappointed in himself he’s even chosen to utter the inquiry. But Minho finally does give an answer, albeit a vague one.

“Not yet,” he replies, swallowing nervously before continuing. “You’ll be the first to know.”

When Jeongin leaves, he takes the cozy atmosphere of the bar with him, and the place now feels colder, more unfamiliar. Minho looks out the window at the darkness that envelopes the parking lot, feeling a sense of unease in knowing he’s going to leave it all behind again. This bar needs him, it needs stability. It needs someone to look out for the people who are vulnerable to sleazy married men or robbers. As he pockets the cash to transfer to the safe, he glances at the yellow Pac-Man game, sitting proudly where it has for the past three months since its repair. Little ghosts dance along the display screen, prompting users with ‘press A to start’.

Minho simply walks past it, knowing very well there’s little joy in a game that only brings back painful reminders. He makes his way to the back office, where the red leather couch and desk still remain. The cash is deposited in the safe, and the keys in the file cabinet- third drawer from the top.

Minho feels a gravitational pull to the spare room upstairs- he knows he shouldn’t, very well aware that he’s only hurting himself by picturing you up there. But still he does. Hands shoved in his pockets, he makes his way up the creaking stairs and through the little hallway.

The room is just as suffocating as he remembers it. The same old pool table sits in the middle of the room, and at the back where the arcade game previously lived, there’s a rectangle on the carpeted floor where it once sat, contrasting a bright untouched green to the older, worn down carpet. Minho doesn’t leave the doorway; he just stands, observing the room in all its mundane appearance. His eyes remain on the spot you’d previously hoisted yourself up to sit on the pool table, and he can almost see himself looming over you, too. From this angle, it doesn’t feel like it ever happened. It plays more like a cheap movie where a famous scene was shot. Like a figment of his imagination.

Have you found what you’re looking for?

He hasn’t, not yet. But seeing the potential of this old room, in the bar he owns, Minho knows it’s finally time to stop searching.

Back in the city, Minho’s days are numbered by the countdown. Two days until he’ll leave all this behind, for good this time.

The kitchen is busier than normal on this gloomy Thursday, more staff than usual working floor while others make trips up to hotel rooms for delivery.

Minho drizzles pans with olive oil in between plating a shrimp scampi, tonight’s special. The air is thick and fragrant with seafood and Parmesan cheese.

“I need a lava cake for room 302!” Seungmin exclaims to Minho in a rushed tone.

“On the cart by the door. Second row.”

Cooks work diligently in their respective areas, and Minho wipes his brow with the back of his sleeve. It’s a stressful role, no doubt, but he still feels a sense of sadness knowing he won’t be back to cooking like this once he’s back in town. He tries to mentally prepare himself for days of mixers and signature cocktails again.

“Minho, get out of here and go take a lunch,” Seungmin says as he reappears from behind the door. “That way the schedule doesn’t rearrange.”

Seungmin is a blunt sous chef, but he’s dedicated to his work. Minho knows he’ll have no problem working his way up to a head chef role one day. He appreciates his attention to detail and ability to work with difficult patrons, and he’d certainly entertain the idea of bringing him to work at the bar back home if he liked.

“On it,” Minho says, already pulling off his apron.

“Oh, and can you bring a Diet Coke to table 6 out there? I brought regular on accident.”

“Yup,” he says plainly, grabbing a clear glass from the clean stack and filling it at the fountain.

Minho thinks back to his apartment- this might be his last day at work, but he still has a generous amount of packing to do when he gets home. He’s relieved he kept most of his stuff in boxes, or else he’d easily be stuck here another week.

Minho counts boxes in his head, balancing the glass in one hand and his apron in another as he exits the kitchen to the seating area. He’s seldom out here, only really passing through when he gets in for the day. But he’s not in charge of serving guests, and the whole thing suddenly feels a little uncomfortable to him. Quiet jazz music plays overhead as tables fill the room with noise of their conversations, everyone dressed up with legs crossed neatly under white tablecloths.

Minho looks around frantically as beads of condensation on the glass wet his hand- where the hell is table 6?

A family sits at the back, every member paired with their drink of choice. An older couple sits closer to Minho, two cups of coffee steaming in front of them.

And by the window, two women deep in conversation- one of them passionately sharing tales of work or perhaps a lover.

And the other one, you.

Minho thinks he’s hallucinating for a moment, when he first observes you sitting there. You’re nodding as the other woman talks, a smile pulling on your face as she exaggeratedly makes a hand motion during her story. You’re not dressed like the other city-dwellers here, looking starkly more beautiful in a sweater and a pair of jeans. You’re the only one in here wearing jeans, aside from Minho. He smiles when he takes notice.

Another server passes Minho in a rush, shoving by him with a tray of food in hand.

“Oh sorry,” he says, eyeing him a little confused. “Did you want me to take that? I know you’re on lunch.”

Minho grips the coke firmly in his hand, shaking his head almost immediately. He’s never refused something so fast in his life before.

“No, I got it,” he says, finally taking the first step toward your table.

Minho glances down at his appearance briefly, fixing the collar of his shirt as he approaches you. He’s a little more dressed up for his last day here, a pastel blue button-up tucked into his jeans, his now long hair parted down the middle. He wishes he could tuck back into the bathroom and see himself more clearly, but he knows he’ll lose you if he doesn’t make his move now.

Minho’s thought of this moment so many times, replayed the conversation in his head like a speech he’s been waiting to give. He wants to proclaim his adoration for you, giving you a romantic explanation of how he’s searched for you all these months and never stopped thinking of you. And in an ideal scenario, you’d say the same, kissing him in front of all the restaurant-goers here and leaving back to town with him to live happily ever after.

But he’s never considered the idea of a friend being present. Or being crunched for time on a 30-minute lunch break. It’s all happening so fast, and his head spins with anxiety as he approaches you.

You’re still in conversation when he sets your Diet Coke down at the table a little too hard, hoping to get your attention. You don’t so much as look his way as he does, and he lingers by your table for a moment as he thinks.

“Do you need a straw?” Minho asks, eyes darting over your face briefly. Your hair is a little longer, too, but you look the same. He’s sure you’re not a hallucination.

“No thank you,” you say, finally glancing over at him to give a small nod.

And just like he’s lost for more words, you seem to be too, lips parting slightly as you keep your gaze fixed on his.

“Thank you for lunch,” you say to your colleague at the end of the meal, who’s been passionately talking about her recent project at work for the last hour.

You tuned her out after the first 15 minutes, being completely awestruck when the server delivered your requested Diet Coke to your table.

Either the brain fog from work is finally starting to catch up with you, or you’re simply too tired. But the server looks exactly like Lee Minho, the bartender you slept with a few months ago. Normally, you’d tuck away and hide at the sight of running into a hookup again. But Minho wasn’t just a hookup to you.

He’s lingered amongst your thoughts for the better part of those three months, the polite action of protecting you from sleeping with a married man and letting you seek shelter in the storm remaining some of the nicest things someone’s ever done for you.

He wasn’t just a hookup, not with the way he spoke of his hopes and dreams and asked about all of yours. And then he fucked you like a husband, the feeling you got from him bending you over the pool table like that still sending chills down your spine.

Your colleague pulls her scarf and coat on, nodding as she gestures to the door. The lunch rush has died down by now, and most of the tables are vacant as the streets bustle with people returning to work.

“I’m gonna grab a meal to-go,” you tell her. “I’ll meet you back at the office. Thank you again for lunch!”

Fortunately for you, she doesn’t question it, leaving you to order as she heads back to the office.

Minho is nowhere to be seen, only one server present on the floor as it’s more empty now.

“Can I help you?” A voice asks, and you’re met with the warm smile of the singular server.

“I… I wanted to give my compliments to the chef,” you say, sounding a little unsure of yourself.

“I’ll be sure to do that, thank you very much,” he replies, bowing when he finishes.

“I meant my personal thanks,” you clarify, and he furrows his brows in response.

“Uh… sure, I can ask him. Do you know if it was the head chef?”

“His name’s Lee Minho,” you say with a smile. “He’s probably the head chef.”

Minho’s sous chef runs his kitchen like the navy, you quickly learn, as he ushers for you to leave soon after Minho exits the kitchen due to the impending dinner rush.

There’s no time to catch up with him, only being able to utter a short “thanks for the meal,” as he waits for you to speak.

But he recognizes you, his gaze staying on yours a little too long as he nervously bows.

“Y/n,” he says in response, the action saying nothing and yet so much at the same time.

And you smile back at him, relieved he still remembers.

As Seungmin calls for him a second time, you pull a pen from the pocket of his apron, scribbling your address on a napkin from one of the tables.

He nods back at you, napkin clutched in hand, as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

And for a brief moment, neither of you can make out the implications of the action. An invitation for sex? A date to catch up? The details are blurry to both of you. But you hope he shows, and Minho already knows he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

As you fix your hair in front of the mirror that evening, memories of Minho play in your mind like they did after the night you spent together. You know you had to leave- it wasn’t something you decided lightly, but you and him are fated for different things. And who are you to intervene where the stars align? Minho deserves someone who will be available for him, someone uncomplicated and willing to inhabit the place he loves so dearly.

You, on the other hand, have a historical bad run with men, and so pursuing Minho would be uncharacteristic. But also unfair to him. It’s clear from that night that your worst traits will always remain the most significant parts of you- impatience, judgment and naivety. And while Minho comes off as curt, he’s anything but. He’s too good for you. You’re just a byproduct of this city- everything he despises. It would be over before it even started.

Minho shows at exactly a quarter to nine, knocking twice at the door as he waits out in the hallway for you.

When you unlatch the door, he perks up from nervously staring at the carpeted floor, adjusting his collar and clearing his throat. He looks more casual than you’ve probably ever seen him before, in a striped gray and black top, layered with a black collared shirt and dark ripped jeans. He also looks particularly handsome tonight, but also different, noticeably thinner in his face where his cheekbones protrude generously, his hair a little longer now.

“Hi,” Minho says plainly, his gaze fixated on yours in an almost trance-like state.

“Hi,” you reply, unsure of where to start. “Come in, please.”

You step aside, ushering him into your apartment and shutting the door behind you both. Minho looks around, impressed with the state of your apartment in comparison with his. There are cherry wood bookshelves lining the walls, filled top to bottom with stacks of old novels and textbooks. Colorful modern paintings decorate the walls, which are admittedly much taller than his own, and cozy lighting fills every room in the space.

Minho bows a little, handing you a bottle, and you smile in amusement as you scan the contents. A single liter of Diet Coke.

“You remembered,” you say, endeared by the simple action.

“So you don’t waste your calories,” he replies with a small smile, echoing the statement you told him so many months ago.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you tell him. Minho takes note of the shakiness in your voice, a little relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is. It’s certainly not a matter of picking up where you left off when you both have your walls up like this, but he prefers the silence to your absence any day.

You disappear into the kitchen, pouring both of you glasses of Diet Coke as Minho settles on the edge of the couch. He folds his hands in his lap and blinks nervously, trying so hard to remember everything he’s wanted to confess to you since returning here. But in this proximity to you, in your own home, everything suddenly seems like a bad idea. He feels dramatic, overbearing, trying to make sense of this. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.

When you return, Minho takes a deep breath, quietly thanking you for the beverage when you place it on the coffee table in front of him. And then as he feared, a silence washes over both of you.

You take a sip of your coke, waiting for him to speak, and similarly, he waits for you. You’d forgotten, briefly. That Minho is inherently a quiet guy. It’d been you who brought his walls down, challenged him to a game of pool and even instigated the argument when he told Jisung to leave the bar. As he blinks at you a few times, you realize it may be his way of asking you to do it again, to help him feel comfortable again.

“Your Italian food is on par with your chicken wings,” you say to him, finally breaking the silence. “Think you need to add shrimp scampi to your bar menu.”

Minho smiles, and the whole room seems to brighten up when he does. His eyes turn to little crescents, his grin flashing you the skewed front teeth you were so endeared by when you first met him. His presence feels like the bar did- safe, familiar.

“It’s not my best work,” he replies. “It’s just a temporary job. But I do have a sous chef here, which is a plus.”

“The one with the nice smile? I know, he almost kicked me out for asking to see you. He’s very deceiving.”

You and Minho share laughter, recalling how Seungmin yelled at you several times at the restaurant today. When your laughter dies down, he swallows nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“Thanks for… giving your compliments today,” he says. He really wants to say ‘thank you for seeing me again’.

“I knew I recognized you,” you say back to him. “I was surprised to see you here in the city. I guess I just wanted some confirmation it was really you.”

“It’s me,” Minho says sheepishly. You smile at him, feeling a little sorry at the way his tone sounds so unsure.

“What are you doing in the city, anyway?” You ask.

Minho isn’t sure what to say. In an alternate timeline, he’d like to tell you he came for you. But he knows he’ll come off as a creep, and the last thing he wants is to lose you again.

“Just wanted a break from the suburbs,” he settles on saying.

“Do you like it?”

He toys with a frayed hem on the throw pillow beside him, shaking his head a little hesitantly.

“If I say no, you’ll think less of me.”

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, not wanting you to think he came here for you to pity him. In fact, the reality is quite the opposite.

“I would never think less of you,” you assure him with a gentle smile. “You’re allowed to have your opinions.”

Minho nods, not entertaining the subject anymore.

“How’s the bar?”

“It’s okay,” Minho says, sighing a little as he thinks back to recent events. “It was robbed just the other night.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say to him with widened eyes. “Is everyone… okay?”

“Everyone’s okay,” he affirms. “Just lost some money. I’m working with the police on it, so hopefully we’ll have someone arrested if we’re lucky.”

You nod at his words, feeling disheartened at the mention of the robbery. Although you’re not particularly fond of the suburbs, the bar is a sacred space for you, and knowing he and the staff were put in that situation makes you uneasy.

“How’s work?” Minho asks, and you chuckle at the question.

“Nothing special. I did get a promotion last month, but I’m only making a few dollars more than I was last time we met. Nothing to write home about.”

“We’ll congratulations anyway,” Minho says, raising his glass of Diet Coke. “Well deserved.”

“Thank you,” you say, clinking your glass against his and letting the cool carbonated beverage soothe the nerves still present in your demeanor.

“Oh, you’ll never believe it! I ran into Jisung out here,” you say to Minho with a scoff. “He tried to pursue me again, the bastard. I’m pretty sure he was even wearing a wedding ring this time. I had to tell him I found out he was married on-”

“On Google,” Minho finishes your sentence. “He told me.”

“You saw him too?”

“Yeah, just the other day. He’s just as obnoxious as he was three months ago.”

You smile at Minho, briefly reminded of the way you were able to bond with him as a result of Jisung’s antics.

“I never got to say thank you,” you say a little quietly, averting his gaze. “For that night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you there to help me.”

He looks down, pondering your words for a moment.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. Trust me. But I figured…” your voice trails off, trying desperately to decipher how to word your sentiment politely.

“Figured what?” He says, looking back up at you. His eyes tremble a little in anticipation for your reply.

“I figured we’re just different people.”

Minho nods, pursing his lips together as he replays your words.

“And by that you mean that you’re a successful member of the city, and I’m just a bartender.”

Your face drops at his words, suddenly panicked that he’s come here because he’s angry at you. You would never think less of him for being a bartender- hell, you wouldn’t even think less of him if he was unemployed. You’re not sure you could think less of him if you tried.

“That’s not what I mean. And you know that.”

Minho narrows his eyes a little, challenging you.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you begin, sighing before continuing to speak. “That I’m everything you despise. I let people down. I’m not inherently a good person, the way you are. You know how I stormed in there demanding a phone charger? Fighting you at the bar because you wouldn’t let me sleep with a married man? That’s the kind of person I am. I’m impatient, and naive and I’m nothing like the girls you’re used to.”

“How do you know what I’m used to?”

“Come on, Minho,” you say, and the conversation finally begins to sound a little more natural between the two of you. “You said it yourself- I’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible. Who’s to say that doesn’t apply to people, too?”

“You’re nothing like you say you are,” Minho interrupts, and you can feel yourself getting frustrated at his words.

“How would you know that? Because you slept with me in a bar? I’m not this dream girl you think I am, Minho. I was looking out for you. You deserve better.”

Minho says nothing for a moment, swirling Coke around in his cup and watching the bubbles fizzle away as they hit the rim of the glass. He shakes his head a little to himself, and then he begins to speak again.

“You want to know why I came out here again?”

You remain silent, already knowing what he’s going to say. But to your surprise, his answer is a little more complex.

“I came out here because I wanted to. I wanted to work as a chef again. I wanted new colleagues, I wanted a different view and I was tired of being stuck in that little bar.”

You don’t reply to his statement, waiting for him to continue.

“And do you know why finding you was something I held onto so dearly?”

“Why?” You ask, the question coming out in a shaky tone. He takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I wanted to thank you. I wanted to tell you all about it. To tell you that you were right- sometimes, simple isn’t better. Sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again. I wouldn’t have done any of this if someone really cool didn’t walk into my bar and make it clear to me. I guess part of me just hoped you were changed by it, too.”

Your expression softens at his words, feeling awful for the way this conversation has gone so far. It’s not your intention to hurt him- in fact, you feel particularly protective of Minho.

“I came looking for you, too,” you say after a moment of silence, and Minho perks up at your words.

“You did?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I visited your bar. Twice since that night. I asked for you both times. The guy said you weren’t there anymore. I think after the second time, I took it as a sign to stop trying.”

“Jeongin?” Minho says, furrowing his brows together in visible confusion.

“He was blonde, a little small. Freckles.”

“Felix,” Minho says, chuckling lightly. “He’s a new hire. Jeongin would’ve told you differently. I have co-ownership with him now.”

You nod, folding your hands in your lap.

“I was changed by it,” you say, finally letting your gaze meet his. “I never stopped thinking about you. But it scares me. In so many ways, you’re everything I tried to run from when I left the suburbs. I don’t think I was ever good enough for any of it- all I cared about was money, and my work and finding an apartment with a nice enough view of the city. I didn’t care about the memories I made there, or that there’s genuinely good people. I didn’t even visit my parents very often. You reminded me that there’s more to it than just that. There’s more to the past than its negative aspects. So thank you, too.”

Minho is quiet for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do- how to keep you around. But in this moment, it’s clear to him- he has to let you go. He said what he had to say. He’s done the search, all three months of it, and he found you. He validated his own emotions and made sense of yours- you were just as changed by it as he was. But maybe that’s enough- perhaps the rest is just wishful thinking.

“Looks like we felt the same about it, then,” he says with a small smile, sitting up from the sofa and making his way to peer out the large glass window in your living room.

“And by the way, you definitely succeeded with the view out here. Mine’s just a brick wall.”

You chuckle, making your way over to the window and standing next to him to take in the view, too.

“It’s nice, right? All of the east side is visible from up here.”

“See that down there?” Minho points. “Visited that dive bar the other day. It sucks if you’re wondering.”

“CJ’s? Yeah, it’s kind of a shithole. They don’t even serve Diet Coke.”

Minho chuckles lightly, a little sadness evident in his tone.

“You know, maybe if you swung by and fixed their little arcade game, they’d supply you some. Probably something to do with all the ABC’s.”

“The what?” You query, furrowing your brows together and chuckling as he speaks.

“The little gidgets inside. You know, with the pins.”

You pause to think for a moment, mentally mapping out the circuit inside.

“The EPROMs,” you say finally.

Minho feels his breath hitch in his throat as you utter the acronym. It sounds so unfamiliar, and yet so familiar to him at the same time. He suddenly remembers that night, in the spare room, hearing you say it for the first time.

“The what?” He replies gently, not removing his gaze from the window.

“The EPROMs,” you clarify, a little louder this time.

“Say it again,” Minho breathes, a small smile painted on his face now.

“EPROMs?” You question, turning to face him, visibly confused.

“Yeah, those. What’s it stand for, anyway?” Minho finally asks, turning to face you. You face him, too, endeared by the curiosity he’s displayed for that game repair since the first night you met.

“Erasable programmable read-only memory,” you explain, aware of how close he is in proximity to you now. His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up again, his plump lips pulling into a knowing smile as you speak. He knows he’s wandering into dangerous territory now, but he can’t help it- not when it’s you who makes him feel like this.

“God, it sounds so sexy when you say it,” Minho says sheepishly.

And he knows he shouldn’t entertain it- he’s well aware that his intention is to walk out of here and get on with his life, comfortable with the knowledge that you’d sought him out, too. But he can’t help himself when you’re this close to him, talking circuit repair so intelligently and erotically.

So without another question to stutter, or a fight to be had, he closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips onto yours and kissing you one last time.

You don’t protest the action, instantly tangling your hands in his tresses and reciprocating with the same hungry, passionate kisses he delivers. Maybe it’s the long hair, or the ripped jeans, but part of you also wonders if he’s been dying to kiss you tonight as badly as you’ve been craving him. The flavor is reminiscent of the bar to you, on that pool table like the first time you kissed him. He tastes like mint, enveloping your tongue with hints of Diet Coke while he nibbles on your bottom lip between kisses.

Without any sort of end goal in mind, your hands snake down to his collared shirt, which you tug on hungrily, and then begin to push off his torso. Minho smiles into the kiss, reaffirmed that you want him just the same, and he pulls away momentarily to complete the task of pulling off his button down.

Underneath, his striped t-shirt is cut off generously at the shoulders, completely exposing his arms to you. You almost gasp at the sight of his toned arms jutting out, veins running along his forearms and flexing with each movement. Minho chuckles softly when he takes notice, amused at your reaction.

When his button down shirt is fully off, he kisses you again, hands finding their way to your waist as he pushes himself against you, desperate to feel you against him. You walk backwards, cupping his face between your hands and leading him toward your bedroom.

For a fleeting moment, you’re nervous to take it any further than this, the last person you slept with being Minho himself. You can’t remember which undergarments you wore, or what your bedroom decor looks like to anyone except yourself. But Minho’s kisses shut you up, his lips moving against yours with desire and passion, and you don’t want to do anything except this, right here.

When you’ve made it to the bed, you pull away, crossing your arms over your torso and pulling your sweater off over your head. You’re in a lacy black bra, you realize, because of course you thought to dress for him. Minho blinks a few times, crossing his own arms over his torso and finally pulling his shirt over his head.

It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Minho without his shirt before- he wore that white button down in the bar, only allowing you to see a generous amount of his collarbones. But standing in front of you like this, he’s breathtaking, his toned torso and his sharp collar bones complementing his sculpted thighs and arms so perfectly.

When he takes notice of you staring at him, one hand flies down to his mid-torso, where he spreads a palm out over the skin, seemingly in an attempt to cover something. You take one step forward, gently placing a hand over his and moving it so that his torso is exposed again. And across his tanned skin, a pale pink scar catches your eye, not very noticeable from your previous distance, but definitely perceptible when you observe his body long enough.

“Minho,” you coo, running your hand along the scar and tracing it with your fingertips. “You’re beautiful,” you say to him after a moment, smiling up at him sincerely.

Minho’s heart almost stops in its place, overwhelmed with his emotions for you, to be here with you, the desire to make love to you eating away at his mind like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

And if it is, he’d die a happy man.

His lips crash against yours again, hands snaking down to your jeans, where he unbuttons them, your hands meeting his to help pull them down. While you take over, he unbuckles his belt, snaking the leather out from around his waist and undoing his buttons. It’s then that he pushes you gently against the bed, hoisting your legs up so that you’re at a comfortable angle, finally propping himself above you and working kisses down your neck. He nibbles your flesh between his teeth the way he did before, beginning to work purple bruises around your throat. And you let him, without protest, because you’re desperate for a reminder that he’s here, that he’s yours. Minho smiles against your neck when he feels you moan softly at the sensation, satisfied with the way you melt at his touch.

“Minho,” you call, and he brings his lips to press a chaste kiss to yours again.

“What is it, baby?” He coos gently, pressing a series of kisses to your lips before you speak again.

“I never should have left,” you reply, toying with a strand of his hair around your fingers in a pleading manner. Your chest is heavy with guilt, tears almost pricking at your eyes as he looms over you like this.

He chuckles softly, kissing you for a moment before grazing his lips over yours again, speaking just above a whisper.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m right where you left me.”

And it’s your turn to kiss him, crashing your lips against his again as tears fall from the corners of your eyes. Minho takes notice when the salty taste of them dance along his tongue, kissing them back up your face and holding you a little closer to him. His hands wrap around the small of your back to find the clasp of your bra, skillfully undoing it with one hand and pulling away from you to discard it on the floor. It’s Minho’s turn to stare, running one hand down your clavicles until he’s grazing your nipples with his fingers.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat with anticipation, before he finally dips his middle finger down over one of your hardened nipples, earning a stifled gasp from you. He works little circles over your nipple with one finger, the gentle stimulation making you gasp into his mouth as he kisses you again.

And then he moves back to your neck, kissing over the bruises he sucked into your flesh, trailing lower and lower until he’s just above your breasts. You look down at him with bated breath, almost clenching at the way his lips exhale little breaths against your nipples, making them even harder. With his eyes on yours, he finally lowers himself, latching both lips around your breast and sucking.

Your back arches up into him instinctively, the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sending divine shivers up your spine. In a sudden motion, his tongue swirls around your bud, the cold sensation causing you to moan fervently. He smiles with your flesh between his teeth, while your hands tangle themselves in his hair and massage him encouragingly.

It feels so primal, so natural to have his mouth all over you, your legs pressing together to calm the ache between your legs. He takes his time on one breast, only coming up to press a kiss in the valley of your breasts and then moving to give attention to the other one. You could stay here for hours, like this, if it wasn’t for the pulsing reminder in your groin that you want to feel him inside of you.

“Please,” you say gently, pressing your legs together and squeezing in efforts to relieve yourself.

Minho chuckles softly, letting go from your nipple with a gentle sucking sound, a string of spit hanging from his lips as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

“I want to feel you inside me again,” you admit shyly, tenderly running your nails along the back of his neck. Minho’s lips meet yours again, and his hands quickly find their way to the hem of your underwear, sliding them down and pulling away to discard them on the floor.

He’s promptly reminded of how needy and vocal you are, smiling down at you as you pull his face back to yours and swirl your tongue around his. But truth be told, he’s just as needy as you are, equally reminded of how much he’s touched himself to the thought of this and secretly prayed he’d be able to make love to you again. And now here, his lips on yours, it’s finally happening, his rock-hard erection proof that it’s always been you.

As you arch up into him, one leg wrapping around his to push him even closer against you, your hand snakes down to his erection, palming him through his boxers. Minho groans at the contact, his lips parting a little as he winces in pleasure.

“You’re so hard,” you say with a smile, pleased at his evidently equal desperation for you.

“All for you,” Minho replies, running one hand down your stomach to rub little circles on your clit, causing you to moan in pleasure.

“Ah- fuck,” you breathe out, contorting against him, desperate for him to fill you up. “Please, Minho, want to feel you inside me,” you pant against him, pleading for the second time now.

He remains like that for a moment, working little circles onto your clit as he observes the way your eyebrows arch up in pleasure.

“Want me to fill you up?” He asks, cocking his head with yours as you grasp his forearm.

“Yes, please,” you reply, trying your best to stave off your orgasm until he’s inside of you.

And without teasing you any further, Minho pulls away from you to slide off his boxers, his cock springing up against his abdomen in anticipation for you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, in awe at the sight as he tosses his boxers aside and leans down to kiss you again.

“Lay down,” Minho orders sweetly, and you do as you’re told, exhaling once to calm your steadily beating pulse.

“Is this still okay?” Minho asks, caressing your shoulder with concern as you wait for his next move.

“Yes,” you say, giving a half smile to him when he rubs his thumb along your cheek lovingly. He smiles back at you, giving one small peck to your lips before hoisting himself up and wrapping one hand around his cock.

You watch as Minho wraps his slender fingers around the base of his cock, pumping a few times before leaning down to kiss you tenderly. The sensation causes him to breathe a few gasps into your mouth, Minho also trying his best to stave his release until he’s inside of you.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?” He asks, breaking away to part your thighs. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you don’t- not when you’re this wet for him, this desperate to finally feel him fill you up again, like you’ve fantasized for so long.

A strand of his hair falls into his face as he finally guides his cock inside of you, rubbing your clit as he thrusts in fully and bottoms out. You gasp at his size, almost having forgotten just how thick he is, the stretch making your head spin with pleasure. When he gauges your reaction, he begins to move with you slowly, giving gentle thrusts while you wrap your arms around his back.

The bed creaks as he moves in and out of your sopping pussy, emitting lewd sloshing sounds as he leans down to kiss you, your tongues and mouths doing much of the same. You can hardly kiss him back, your lips already dribbling strings of drool in fucked-out satisfaction from him filling you up like this.

“Fuck… baby… you’re so tight,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Feels so good,” you breathe back, gripping his shoulder a little bit when he picks up his pace. “No one fucks me the way you do,” you say to him, and his cock twitches inside of you at the admission.

“Fuck,” Minho says again. “I dreamt of you for so long,”

“Me too,” you say, reaching up to move a stray piece of hair out from in front of his eyes between your heavy breathing. “I wish I came looking for you again. God, I wasted so much time.”

Minho kisses you, burying his lips in the crook of your neck to caress the bruises he’s already left.

“I never stopped searching for you,” he breathes out against your skin. “It’s you, it’s always been you.”

His words make your heart flutter as he continues to thrust in and out of you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust now. Your moans get louder as he picks up the pace, digging his nails into your waist as he holds you in place. Between kisses, he caresses your thigh with his hand, positioning it up and bending your leg at the knee beside him. You moan instantly at the new angle, his length caressing every inch of your pussy, his girth stretching you out with every thrust inside of you and tickling your pulsing clit as he moves against your hips.

“Good girl,” Minho says, smiling against you as he kisses you. “Take me so well.”

Your nails dig into his back as he thrusts a little faster now, the rhythmic motion sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m close,” you breathe out, and judging by the way Minho’s cock twitches inside of you, he is too.

“Will you do that thing again?” You ask in a shaky voice between moans, and Minho lets out a breathy chuckle.

“What thing, baby?”

But he knows very well what you’re referring to, having replayed it in his head every time he got off without you. You don’t respond to him, instead intertwining his hand in yours and bringing it down to your abdomen, where you sprawl his palm across your navel and give it a little push. Minho groans at the feeling of your warm abdomen under his palm, remembering the way you reacted last time. And he’s eager to please you, to do it exactly how you liked it before.

Without teasing you any further, Minho presses down on your stomach, observing the way you moan when he does, and then thrusts a little faster. He can feel his length sliding in and out of you under his touch, locking his gaze on the bulge in your abdomen that appears with every thrust.

“Min, I’m so close,” you say, gasping desperately and digging your nails into his back.

He presses down a little harder, burying his face in the crook of your neck and moving even faster, moaning every time he can feel himself move against your abdomen.

And as he brings his lips up to meet yours, you finally let go around him, making a mess of your sheets as you cum around his cock, your clit pulsing in syncopation with your entrance as he fucks you through your orgasm. Minho finishes just seconds after, emptying his milky white release inside of you, both your juices spilling into each other and coating the bed in your arousal. He doesn’t pull out immediately, slowing his thrusts for a few minutes as he kisses you much gentler this time, your lips still glistening with the exchange of saliva.

When he feels you shiver against him, Minho finally slides out, turning over to lay on his back and catch his breath. The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and wiping beads of sweat off your forehead as you do. After a moment of silence, he turns to you again, a worried expression on his face.

“I promise I didn’t come here to have sex with you,” Minho says. “I wasn’t lying about wanting to tell you all about it. I guess I just happened to-”

“Min, I know,” you say with a small smile. “I didn’t think that’s why you came here.”

He lets out a silent chuckle, and you mirror the action, smiling back at him before laughing silently. The two of you remain sore and wearied, your languid bodies a comfortable distance away from each other on the soiled duvet.

Still, Minho extends a hand out from beside you, palm facing up and shifting his gaze onto yours out of his peripheral vision.

Your hand meets his, intertwining your fingers together, the delicate embrace a reminder that he’s here, right where you left him.

“Can’t you just stay another week?” you say to Minho, leaning down to press another kiss to his already swollen lips.

You lie on top of him as he lays back on your couch, his hands tucking strands of hair behind your ear as he smiles up at you.

“It’s just for a little bit, I promise. I just have some unfinished business out there.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” you say in a whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your fingertip.

“You won’t lose me,” Minho replies, his tone turning serious at your words. “You’ll never lose me.”

“What am I going to do without you?” You ask him, feeling yourself grow increasingly more panicked at the thought of being away from him again. You’ve spent the better part of three months searching for each other, desperate for some closure to this fleeting thing- and now he’s leaving, and you can’t help but feel like you’re doing something wrong by letting him leave like this.

“You’re going to be the woman you always have been,” Minho says with a smile, stroking your hair gently. “You’re going to work your job, and fix things and be absolutely remarkable wherever you go. And I’m going to finalize a few things out there and then meet you right back here in the city. And we’ll lie on this couch, and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”

You smile at him through pricking tears, feeling them begin to fall as he reaches a thumb up to wipe them off your cheek.

“Hey,” Minho says to you reassuringly. “You know- I was thinking a lot about the bar.”

You nod at him, trying to hold back the rest of your tears as he speaks.

“We have contract negotiations coming up next month. And I was thinking of… maybe…handing it off to Jeongin.”

You sit up a little, eyes widening at his words.

“Complete ownership? But you love that bar, Min.”

He shrugs a little, blinking a few times as he pauses.

“I want to cook. And I think being out here made me realize I need a change of pace again.”

“You mean like… moving out here? To the city?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, throwing his head back a little before meeting your gaze again.

“Maybe. Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

You chuckle too now, cupping his face in your hands as you sit up to look at him.

“You know,” you begin, thinking for a second before continuing to speak. “This really cool bartender told me once that sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again.”

His lips flicker down to your smile and back up to your eyes as you speak, a visible sparkle in your pupils as you look down at him. “Whatever you decide to do back there, I’m here with you when you go forward again. As a bartender, or a chef, or whatever you decide. I’ll be right where you left me.”

And he doesn’t have to ask you twice, knowing in his heart, you’re already here with him- every step of the way.

Minho leaves bright and early that morning, grasping your hand firmly in his as you make your way down the concrete steps of your apartment building to where his car is parked.

He looks more angelic than you’ve ever seen him, his smile illuminating the space around you as he holds you in his gentle embrace on the sidewalk. The two of you say nothing, only speaking through the tender touches of your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, face tucked in the crook of his neck as he holds you. He presses kisses to the top of your head, reminding you through hushed whispers that he’ll be back as soon as possible. And you know he will, feeling completely enveloped in his loving trust as he holds you, as he promises not to lose you again.

When he pulls away to look into your eyes, tears prick at the corners of your eyes for the third time this morning, and Minho chuckles lightly, reaching up to wipe them away with his thumb.

Before he can say anything, he feels it, finally.

The gentle caress of droplets on his face- not your tears, not his, but the sky above, showering you with little raindrops for the first time in three months and some days.

At first, Minho thinks he might be hallucinating it, when he looks up to squint his eyes back at the cloudy sky. You do the same, feeling the familiar kiss of raindrops on your skin. And then, as if the sky’s taking notice, it begins to pour, warm rain showering you both in the hazy atmosphere of the city sidewalk.

Minho laughs up at the sky, shaking his now damp hair as he looks down at you again. All this time he’s waited for the rain, thinking maybe he’d imagined it that night in the bar- the same night he ran into you. But as the raindrops graze his skin and glisten under the light of the city, he realizes it was very much real, as are you, standing right here in his arms. And like everything falls into place, so does the rain over the city, washing away the doubts he held onto for so long.

“It’s finally raining!” Minho exclaims, holding you closer to him as he tilts his face up to the sky again.

You watch him in admiration, laughing at the way he embraces the sudden downpour, also remembering the first night you met him because of the storm like this.

The city-dwellers around you begin to seek shelter under the cement roofs of the high rises, but you remain there on the sidewalk, warm in each other's embraces, content with the sudden turn of the weather. When he looks back down at you, his hair is now completely soaked, stringy pieces falling into his face as he continues to laugh.

“Minho,” you say through gentle laughter of your own. The rain comes down violently now, drenching the two of you as he holds you closer to him.

“Where have you been all my life?”

And he smiles down at you, the familiar beam of his giggle instilling the same safety and comfort as the first night you met in his bar.

“Right here,” Minho replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

“I’ve always been here.”

This time, you make no effort to escape the rain, comfortable in the way it looms over the city, much like how Minho looms over you- fortuitous, and with promises of new beginnings.

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